


Rosa's Journey

by Violet_Rose_Of_Darkness



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Día de los Muertos | Day of the Dead, F/M, Family, Gen, Héctor and Imelda Switch, Music, Role Reversal, Rosa and Miguel Switch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 18:03:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16539479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violet_Rose_Of_Darkness/pseuds/Violet_Rose_Of_Darkness
Summary: Instead of Miguel being cursed to the Land of the Dead, it's Rosa. Instead of Héctor leaving the family to become a musician, it was Imelda. How will their story play out? Roleswap AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just watched Coco after a year of putting it off and I absolutely love it. And since then, I've been planning a roleswap in my head. Rosa is a character a lot of people like to explore and Imelda is a wonderful character, so I thought, why not? Don't worry, Rosa is still Rosa and Imelda is still Imelda, just tweaked a bit.
> 
> Now, please enjoy the fic! Oh, and I had to make Oscar and Felipe Héctor's brothers instead of Imelda's for this to work. Also, I had to make a whole new villain instead of Ernesto. Please don't kill me. Just work with me, guys.

"Miguel, we're gonna get in so much trouble!"

Twelve-year-old Miguel Rivera grinned widely at his cousin. "Ay, you worry too much, prima," he assured her. "We'll be back before anyone notices we're gone." He gave her a sly look, his brown eyes glinting with their usual mischief. "Of course, you can go back home if you want, pollita." Though the jab had a light tone, he knew that it would do its job.

Thirteen-year-old Rosa Rivera huffed, crossing her arms. Just because she didn't take as many risks as her cousin didn't mean she wasn't as brave. He was just foolish. "I'm not a chicken, I just don't want to get whacked with Abuelita's chancla," she told him. "You know she doesn't like us in the plaza." The plaza was where the most music was, after all.

"Come on, Rosa," urged Miguel, draping an arm around her shoulders. Part of him did this to prevent her from running home. "This is where all the customers are." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Besides, who says we can't listen to a bit of music while we're here. It's not like we can help it, there's mariachi everywhere."

Rosa sighed, her shoulders sagging a bit as she glared daggers at her cousin. "I'm blaming this all on you if we get caught," she told him firmly.

He smiled at her. "Sure thing." His eyes scoured the many people as the two entered the plaza before he spotted a mariachi with particularly dirty shoes. "I'm gonna go see if that guy over there needs a shoe shine." He gestured around them. "Why don't you see if you can listen around, eh? I shouldn't be too long."

She gave him a reluctant look before nodding. "Okay, Miguel. Just, stay out of trouble, sí?"

Miguel gave her his usual lopsided grin. "You worry too much, prima," he told her. "What's going to happen here?"

"We could be caught," Rosa answered dryly. She knew that, unlike herself, Miguel didn't have her instinct for self-preservation. She feared her family's- primarily her father's- disappointment and disapproval more than anything.

He rolled his eyes at her before gently pushing her away. "Seguir," he urged. "It'll only take a few minutes."

Rosa sighed, but did as he said and made her way towards a group of mariachi, all playing different instruments. She sat on the ledge of the center fountain, closing her eyes as she listened to them. As expected, their music was lively and upbeat and if she thought she could get away with it, she would be twirling around to the rhythm.

She knew it was wrong, she knew she should stay as far away from these musicians as possible, but she couldn't help herself. She loved music. She loved dancing and singing and playing the violin. She loved listening to Miguel strum away on his guitar and she loved playing along with him. She loved it all and wanted to be a violinist when she was older. However, her family would never allow it.

She hadn't even realized the song had ended when she felt a tap on her shoulder. "Muchacha? Are you alright?"

Rosa opened her eyes and realized that the woman who had spoken was a female mariachi, a violinist to be exact. "S-Sí, Señora," she answered. "I was just listening to you guys while my cousin finished up some business here. You play beautifully, by the way."

The woman beamed at her. "Gracias, niña. But if you liked the song, why do you look so forlorn?"

She sighed. "That," she said. "would take a long time to explain."

The mariachi smiled at her encouragingly. "I have time, chica," she assured her. "Lay it on me."

She flushed slightly at the attention she was getting. Growing up in a big family, it was often that she was overlooked. She was the middle child of her parents and her abuelita tended to focus most of her attention on her grandsons (most likely because they caused the most trouble). The only one who really paid attention to her was her Tía Gloria and that was probably due to the fact that she was unmarried and without a child of her own.

Rosa took a deep breath before launching into the story she had heard so many times throughout her childhood. "My family had a ban on music," she explained. "and it's because of something that happened a long time ago. You see, this story starts with my great-great grandpa Héctor. He was married to a beautiful woman and they had a child together named Coco (she's my great grandma, by the way).

"The mother would play her violin and they would both sing to their daughter. The three of them lived as a happy family for a few years. That is, until the mother left to play music for the world and they never saw her again. And Papá Héctor? He didn't have time to cry over that woman. Rolling up his sleeves, he learned to make shoes and started a family business.

"Papá Héctor then taught his daughter how to make shoes. Then, he taught her husband (my Papá Julio) to make shoes. Eventually, his kids got roped into it. This started the long tradition of the Rivera shoe line."

Rosa sighed. "Papá Héctor banned music from our family and Abuelita runs our house the same way. I can't even hum to myself or I'll get hit with the chancla."

The mariachi laughed. "Chanclas are the worst," she sympathized. "Do you play an instrument, chica?"

She flushed again. "Well, I've been practicing violin for about a year now," she admitted. Her eyes then lit up, her dark brown irises sparkling. "I love Earlina De Paula, she's my idol!"

Earlina De Paula was praised in her time as the most famous female artist of her time. She had written and performed some of Rosa's favorite songs, including her most famous one, Remember Me. Ever since listening to one of her albums when she was ten, de la Paula had become Rosa's hero.

The violinist nodded in agreement. "She was pretty spectacular." She shook her head. "Too bad about the 1942 incident, eh?"

Too bad, indeed. At the peak of her career, Earlina De Paula had met an unfortunate death. Something had gone wrong with the stagehand while she had been dancing and the lights went out. The lack of light had caused her to trip and fall of the stage and she had broken her neck, dying almost instantly.

The mariachi handed her violin to the girl. "Why don't you play something for me, chica?" she asked.

The tips of Rosa's ears turned red. "Oh no, Señora, I couldn't. My family would kill me."

"Come on, niña," the musician insisted. "They aren't here right now, are they?"

The girl looked around. "Well, no..."

"And what did De Paula always say?"

"Let nothing stand in your way?" asked Rosa, remembering her idol's most favorite phrase.

The woman grinned at her. "Exactly. So...?"

Rosa reached out for the violin, only to be interrupted by the familiar shout of her abuelita. "MIGUEL!" She turned to see her grandmother threatening another mariachi with her chancla, her cousin looking on behind her.

"I take it that's your grandmother?" the violinist asked warily.

Rosa sighed. "Sí. You should go, Señora. I'd hate for her to pull the chancla on you too."

The mariachi rose with her violin. "That's probably best," she agreed. She gave Rosa a pat on the shoulder. "You'll work it out, niña. Try talking to your family about it. They might surprise you."

She seriously doubted it, but nodded and thanked the woman as she left before she heard her abuealita's voice once more. "Rosa!" Before she knew it, she was pulled into her grandmother's suffocating embrace. "Oh, mi pobre nieto! Did that mariachi hurt you?"

Rosa gently pulled away. "Of course not, Abuelita," she promised, moving to stand next to her cousin. "I'm fine."

Abuelita put her hands on her hips and glared at her grandchildren. "You two no better than to go out into the plaza," she scolded them. "This place is crawling with musicians!"

"But this is where all the shoe traffic is!" protested Miguel.

Tía Gloria (had she been there the whole time?) raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and I suppose it had nothing to do with the fact that this is the most popular place for the mariachi to perform?" she questioned knowingly.

Rosa flushed. "Abuelita, Tía Gloria, please don't tell Papá!" she begged. Her father somehow detested music more than her grandmother and had strictly forbade her having any association with it. If he found out she had been in the plaza...

Abuelita sighed. "Sorry, mija, but the two of you can't keep doing this. This is the third time this month I've found you around these musicians!" She spat the word 'musician' out like it was some sort of poison, causing both her grandchildren to wince. She gestured for them to follow her. "Vamonos." Rosa and Miguel reluctantly trekked behind her.

"We'll be back before anyone notices we're gone, huh, Miguel?" hissed Rosa to her cousin.

Miguel shrugged. "I lost track of time," he confessed. "Besides, you know they won't be too mad at us. We'll just get a 'stern talking to.'"

Rosa rolled her eyes. "Maybe you will," she muttered bitterly. Miguel's parents never yelled at him, never punished him farther than grounding him for a week. Sometimes, she really wished he would get punished as harshly as her.

"Prima, nothing's going to happen," Miguel tried to assure her.

Though Rosa hoped he was right, she couldn't help but feel something bad was going to happen when they got home.

OoOoOo

"I found your children in the plaza today," declared Abuelita as soon as they stepped into the house. Both Miguel and Rosa sighed on either side of her; their grandmother had never been one for tact.

Tío Enrique sighed. "Miguel." He didn't sound angry or even frustrated. He just sounded tired. Rosa couldn't blame him; with an insistent, music-loving son like Miguel and a pressing, nagging mother like Elena, who wouldn't be?

Her father, Berto, on the other hand, glared daggers at her. "Rosa Marigold Rivera, you know you are forbidden to set foot in that place!" he very nearly shouted.

Rosa winced at his tone. Her father was a stern man, always setting high expectations for her. "Papá-"

"It was my fault Tío Berto," Miguel cut in. "Rosa didn't want to go, but I made her." He looked down at the floor, trying to avoid the judgmental stares of his family. "I thought we could make a little extra money."

Luisa- Miguel's heavily pregnant mother- sighed in a similar manner to her husband. "Miguel, you know how your abuelita feels about that place," she reminded him. "And you can't keep dragging your poor cousin there."

Rosa felt an ounce of guilt. Her cousin hadn't necessarily dragged her to the plaza; she had wanted to go. She liked listening to the mariachis play. But everyone always thought it was only Miguel who loved music (he made it all too apparent), not her. Of course, no one knew of the cousins' shared burning passion to become musicians, but his insistence on listening to as much as he could was painfully obvious.

"It... It wasn't all his fault, Tía Luisa,"she admitted, causing every head to turn from Miguel to her. She took a deep breath, trying to summon the kind of courage that seemed to come so easily to her cousin. "I like it there."

"Besides, look what I saw!" exclaimed Miguel, pulling a poster from his pocket. "They're having a talent show! Tonight!" Rosa stared at the poster, her eyes alight with excitement.

A talent show? That was perfect for the both of them! Maybe if they did well and their family heard, they'd realize that music wasn't a curse. Maybe they would see how beautiful music could be.

Rosa's brother, Abel, scoffed. "What are you gonna do?" he mocked. "Shine shoes?"

Abuelita, however, put her hand on her hips. "Tonight?" she repeated incredulously. "Miguel, have you forgotten how important tonight is?"

Her cousin faltered. "Día de los Muertos?"

Rosa mentally berated herself. How could she have forgotten? Día de los Muertos was the most important holiday of the year for their family. Her abuelita prepared for it every year with a passion. She liked to cram the family legacy down their throats on a regular basis; Día de los Muertos just gave her an excuse to do it excessively.

Abuelita nodded. "That's right, mijo. It's the one night a year that our ancestors can come visit us. No one if going anywhere." She sharply turned to her only granddaughter. "Rosa."

She jumped. "Y-Yes, Abuelita?"

Her grandmother gestured for the girl to follow her. "Come with me," she beckoned.

Rosa groaned inwardly. Of course she was the one who had to hear it. She was the older of the two. She was the wittier and the one with the better grades. She was the one who had to set an example.

Outwardly, she sighed. "Sí, Abuelita."

OoOoOo

Rosa trailed after her grandmother, who led her to the Rivera family's ofrenda. There sat the photos of their deceased family members; starting at Papá Héctor (along with Mamá Coco as a little girl), leading down to Tío Oscar and Tío Felipe, then came Papá Julio and Tía Rosita, and finally stopping on Tía Victoria. Papá Héctor's photo, especially, stood out. Along with being the one at the top, there was also a woman next to him and holding Mamá Coco on her lap.

The woman's face had been ripped out, leaving no identity to the woman who had abandoned her family for music.

Mamá Coco currently sat quietly in her wheelchair in the corner of the room. Rosa immediately went over to her. "Hola, Mamá Coco," she greeted, kissing her great grandmother gently on the cheek.

The aged woman turned her head slightly to acknowledge her. "How are you, Rosita?"

Rosa sighed sadly. Her full name was not Rosita- though she had been named in honor of the woman. Her great grandmother was more than likely referring to her as her deceased sister-in-law. With her old age came a severe loss of memory; she couldn't even recognize her own daughter.

Abuelita beckoned Rosa to come stand with her near the altar and she did. "Mija, tonight is about family."

"Sí, Abuelita."

"And you know that music is forbidden."

Rosa refused to meet her eyes. "Sí, Abuelita."

"And you know that you must set an example for Miguel. You are the older one."

"Sí, Abuelita."

Abuelita sighed. "Don't look like that, mija," she pleaded, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I'm hard on you because I care, Rosa. I don't want you to end up like her." She spat out the name, as if the very mention of the woman was a curse.

Rosa tilted her head. "You mean Mamá Coco's mamá?" she asked carefully.

"Don't mention her name!" snapped Abuelita. "She ran off to become a musician, leaving your poor Papá Héctor to raise a child by himself." She shook her head. "She is better off forgotten."

Rosa looked to the floor. "Lo siento, Abuelita."

"Mamá?" called a faint voice. Both turned to see that it was Mamá Coco. "Mamá is home? Mamá is coming home?"

Abuelita rushed to her side, rubbing her shoulders reassuringly. "Mamá, cálmese, cálmese," she soothed. "I'm here."

Mamá Coco turned to acknowledge her. "Who are you?"

Abuelita sighed, looking her granddaughter in the eyes. "Mija, I know you. You are a responsible niña. I have faith that you'll steer your cousin onto the right path."

Rosa sighed. "Sí, Abuelita." With that, she turned on her heel and walked out of the altar.

It just wasn't fair! Why did she always have to hear it? Miguel never had to hear it. He was the precious grandson, the one that people adored for his charming personality. She was just Rosa. The middle child. The smart cousin. The boring, goody-two-shoes, the mojigata. Never broke the rules, always did what her family told her without question.

She was sick of it! Miguel was only a few months younger than her, why couldn't he take care of himself? He knew that music was forbidden, just as she did. She just wasn't lo suficientemente estúpida to make it so obvious. So why did she always have to suffer because of it?

Rosa took a deep breath, trying to clear her head. It wasn't Miguel's fault that he loved music so much. It just always seemed to flow out of him so easily, just like it did herself. She just did a better job of containing it. Maybe they got it from their great-great grandmother.

She both envied and resented that woman. She had gotten to live the life Rosa only dreamed about. To be free of restrictions with just her and her music. She would give anything to have that life. But it was also because of that woman that she never would live that dream.

She was the one who had caused the ban in the first place.

Rosa looked around at her bustling family members who were getting ready for Día de los Muertos. She sighed as she retreated to her room and sat herself down on her bed.

She just wanted to do what she loved. Was that so wrong?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was a fast update, but that's only because I'm off school today. Ya'll seem to like this story, so let's see where this journey takes us. Please enjoy the fic!

Rosa grunted as she struggled to pull herself and a certain 'guest' into her and her cousin's secret spot. It was hidden from the rest of the family and muffled any noise that came from it. It was the perfect space to practice music. "Miguel," she huffed out, trying to get through the tiny space without being seen. She had also set up a shrine to Earlina De Paula there with her albums, posters, figurines, lit candles, and her movie playing on the TV. "Ven a obtenen a tu amigo."

Miguel chuckled and grabbed the dog, pulling him all the way through. "Ay, Dante," he said, exasperatedly. "You're going to get us caught. Someone could hear us." He scoffed. "I wish someone would want to hear us."

Dante was a Xolo dog that the two had found almost a year ago. He had immediately taken a liking to Miguel- probably due to the fact that Miguel was the one that fed him- and had been around them ever since. Rosa honestly thought he was a dumb dog, but Miguel insisted that he was smarter than he let on.

"You're lucky I saw him," stated Rosa as she lugged herself off the floor. "Tía Gloria almost saw him come in here."

"How did the talk with Abuelita go?" Miguel asked as they both sat down.

Rosa sighed. "She said that it's my job to steer you on the right path," she answered honestly. "Miguel, if you keep making your love for music so obvious, we'll both be stuck making shoes for the rest of our lives."

Even without music, that was the last thing she wanted to do. Perhaps becoming a musician was a bit of a stretch, but there had to be more to life than shoes. The Rivera's treated shoe-making as if it were the holy grail that saved their family (which it sort of did, but that wasn't the point). If making it as a violinist didn't work out, there had to be other options. Besides, music was something she could always do on the side.

He frowned at her. "Rosa, I can't help it!" he told her. "It's not my fault that they're always breathing down mi cuello!" He had a point, but he just needed to learn more tact.

She rolled her eyes. "They wouldn't be if you would stop making it obvious." She shook her head. "Ever since we were criaturas, you were tapping away at your tray. We never had a chance."

Miguel shrugged. "Hey, blame Tatara Abuela. We probably got it from her."

Rosa nodded in agreement. "Probably." She leaned on Miguel's shoulder as they watched one of Earline de Paula's most famous movies; La música es Mi Vida. In it, she was belting out and playing one of her songs; The World Es Mi Familia.

Miguel handed her her violin and bow from the other side of him. "Here, prima," he offered.

Rosa took it and began bowing along with her idol. She had learned everything she knew about music from these movie and listening to De Paula over and over again. Violin was a difficult instrument, but with the World's Greatest Musician guiding her, she had picked it up rather fast. She had even gotten good at singing while she played, and that had to be the biggest challenge of all.

So, taking a deep breath, Rosa began to sing.

Señoras y señores,  
Buenas tardes, buenas noches  
Buenas tardes, buenas noches,  
Señoritas y señores

To be here with you tonight,  
Brings me joy, que alegria  
For this music is my language,  
And the world es mi familia

For this music is my language,  
And the world es mi familia  
For this music is my language,  
And the world es mi familia!

As she finished, she heard Miguel begin to applaud her. "Bravo!" he cheered.

Rosa chuckled. "Gracias, primo," she said. She lowered her head. "I just wish the family would agree." She leaned closer to the small TV where her idol was talking.

"Señorita de Paula, what did you do to make sure nothing stood in your way?" an interviewer asked the woman.

De Paula smiled that brilliant, heart-winning smile that made millions of people fall in love with her and her music. "Music is a very powerful weapon, mi amigo," she responded. "It's not just mere sound. It influences us, inspires us, drives us. Music is everywhere and it's beautiful. True, there were obstacles along the way, but the power of music conquers all. I saw my opportunity-"

"And I took it," Rosa finished along with the violinist. She then turned to her cousin, "The mariachi I was talking to said something to me today."

Miguel turned to her. "Yeah?" he replied. "What was it?"

"That I should stop hiding-" She gestured around her. "-this. How much I love music." Rosa took the poster for the talent show. "Miguel, I have to play in this plaza. I have to show everyone what I can do."

He grinned at her. "Done being the niña perfecto, eh?" he teased, though inside he was feeling somber. He wanted to perform as well, but he almost always had the family's attention, especially when it came to music. It would be much easier for Rosa to slip out, unnoticed.

If both of them couldn't perform, he'd rather it be at least one of them. And if it couldn't be him, there was no one else he would have perform than Rosa.

Rosa nodded. "Cover for me?" she asked.

"Always," promised Miguel, smiling at her. Of all the trouble he got her in, this was the least he could do. They had always been close, as thick as thieves since he was born. They would always have each others' backs, no matter what.

OoOoOo

Rosa quietly jumped from the low rooftop and onto a tree, sliding to the ground. She had to play this just right; she couldn't afford any slip-ups. She made her way for the entryway, but paused when she heard the voice of her father and grandmother coming from either side of her. She clutched her violin closer to her and backed up, right into the family's altar.

She jumped when she heard a light bark. "Dante!" she snapped, spotting the dog next to her. "What are you doing in here!?" The voices of her family grew louder and she quickly shoved the dog under the table along with her violin. "Perro mudo."

Why Miguel kept that thing around would always remain a mystery to her. He seemed to be much more trouble than he was worth; always getting into things, irritation Abuelita, etc. She had read that Xolo dogs were supposed to be mighty spirit guides, but he seemed even dumber than a regular dog.

"Rosa?"

She jumped again, spinning around to meet the eyes of her father, grandmother, and mother. "I wasn't doing anything!" she yelped. Her grandmother gave her a suspicious look, approaching her slowly, her parents flanked on either side of her.

This didn't look good. "Mamá, Papá, what's going on?" Rosa asked carefully.

Her father smiled broadly at her. "Mija, your abuelita had the most wonderful idea," he stated gleefully. "We've all agreed that your old enough to start working in the shop!"

"What?" An apron was shoved onto her shoulders.

"Everyday after school, you'll work with us," explained Papá, ignoring her. He then scowled. "It'll keep you away from that plaza. that's for sure."

Rosa couldn't believe her ears. The little free time she had after school was being stripped from her and in its place would be spent in a hot, stuffy workshop. A place that smelled of shoes and where injuries always tended to happen; Abel almost always sent a shoe flying onto the ceiling! Being in the plaza was an escape from the 'beloved' shoe legacy.

And now it was being stolen from her.

It wasn't fair! She did everything to make her family proud! Why did she have to be the one forced into making shoes? Why was it that Miguel got off Scott-free while she was the one being punished?

However, she kept these thoughts to herself (as usual).

Her mother, Carmen, had literal tears in her eyes. "My Rosie working in the shop!" she gushed. "You will make your ancestors so proud!"

Abuelita was already pinching her cheeks. "My nieta preciosa carrying on the family tradition!" she exclaimed excitedly. "And on Día de los Muertos! You'll craft huraches just like your Tía Victoria. And wingtips like your Papá Julio! Oh, we must celebrate!"

"I'll make a toast tonight!" declared her father. "Enrique, break out the good stuff!"

Rosa said nothing as her family fussed. She watched them silently, taking in their excitement as they completely disregarded her opinion. She supposed she should have expected this. Everyone had to join the business at some point; no exceptions.

She was a Rivera. And a Rivera was a shoemaker, through and through.

Her mother kissed her cheek, her father ruffled her hair, and her grandmother peppered her face with small pecks. She managed to give the aged woman a small, fake smile before she was left alone.

Well, not completely. Mamá Coco was sitting in the corner silently and Rosa decided to approach her. "Hola, Mamá Coco," she greeted softly. "I guess I'm doing your Papá proud, huh? Joining the family business?" She was quiet for a moment before speaking again, "Do you ever miss it? The music?"

No reply. Rosa honestly didn't expect one.

She couldn't believe this was happening. Why was she being forced into the workshop? Why did she have to slave away, making shoes for the rest of her life? Didn't she have a say in what she did with her life?

The sound of rustling caught her attention and she turned to see Dante on the ofrenda, eating the offerings. "Dante!" she snapped, rushing over to him. She grabbed him by his sausage body and attempted to lug him off. This caused the entire altar to rattled. "Dante, off! ¡Perro mudo!"

Rosa finally managed to yank him off, but not before the damage was done. Everything settled back into place except for one thing.

Papá Héctor's photo tumbled off the top of the ofrenda before she could stop it. She attempted to catch it, but it slipped through her fingers, hitting the floor with a crash. The glass of the frame shatter into tiny pieces.

"No!" exclaimed Rosa. "No, no, no!" She rushed forward to collect the picture before it was damaged. She picked up the black and white photo, only to notice something odd. The picture was folded, covering up a part of the photo.

Unfolding it, Rosa gasped. Next to her great-great grandmother was a violin case. A very familiar violin case. "De Paula's case?" she breathed.

"Mamá?" called out Mamá Coco softly. "Mamá?"

Rosa approached her. "Mamá Coco," she began slowly. "is your mamá Earline De Paula?"

Mamá Coco simply pointed to the faceless woman. "Mamá! Mamá!"

This changed everything.

OoOoOo

Rosa burst into her shrine and yanked an album cover from its shelf. She examined the violin case that De Paula was holding and compared it the the black-and-white picture from the ofrenda. It was the same exact one. From the size, to the model, down to the handle. It even had the same unique, swirly design on it.

Her great-great grandmother was Earlina De Paula.

Giddy with excitement, Rosa ran to find her cousin. "Miguel!" she shouted, sprinting through the Rivera property. "Miguel, I know who out great-great grandmother is!" Dios, where was that boy? She busted into the kitchen to find the boy she was looking for. "Miguel!"

He jumped and turned around to face her. "Rosa? What is it?"

"Earlina De Paula!" answered Rosa. She realized that she was loud and expressive and all the things that her cousin usually was, but at that moment, she was too happy to care. "She was Mamá Coco's mother. She's our great-great grandmother! We can be musicians, just like her!"

"Musicians?" came a voice. They both froze, turning around to see her mother standing there, gawking at the both of them.

Mierda.

OoOoOo

About ten minutes later, Rosa watched as all her stuff was dumped onto the ground. Her records, her CD's, and her violin too. She was just thankful that they hadn't found her cousin's things too. He would be devastated. "What is all this?" demanded her grandmother, her tone the angriest she had ever heard it. "You keep secrets from your own family?"

Her father gave a disapproving grunt. "It's all that time you've been spending in the plaza," he accused.

"It's been filling her head with crazy fantasies," added Tía Gloria.

Rosa stayed quiet through her scolding, though she could feel her temper rising. Lashing out and talking back would only make matters worse. She needed to keep a level head. Miguel looked like he wanted to say something, but she stopped him with a curt shake of the head. He would only make things worse and get himself in trouble and her deeper in it.

That was the last thing they needed.

"Same something, girl!" barked her father.

Rosa sighed. "This woman," she began. "is Earlina De Paula, the greatest musician of all time." She handed the picture to her father.

Papá examined it. "We've never known a thing about this la moza," he spat at her disdainfully. "but we do know that she ran off and abandoned her family. I will not have you follow in her footsteps."

She turned to her mother, who had been silent throughout the whole ordeal. "You said I would make my family proud," she reminded her. "Well, not I can. I can make De Paula proud!"

Mamá shook her head. "Rosa Marigold Rivera, you know the ruled of this household," she said sternly. "The life of a musician is no life for you or anyone here." She gave Miguel the side-eye and her chuckled nervously.

"But Mamá, playing music is in my blood!" Rosa argued. She was really beginning to get frustrated and her voice was starting to rise. It was her life, why couldn't she just live it the way she wanted to? "I'm supposed to be a musician!"

"Never!" cut in Abuelita. "That woman's music was a curse! I will not allow it!"

"But-"

"Rosa," Mamá interrupted sternly. She could tell she was pushing it, but at this point she didn't care. She was done being the perfectly obedient daughter. She wanted one thing- one thing- in her life and she would not let them rip it away from her.

"You will listen to you family," Papá insisted. "No more music!"

Rosa was running out of options and she knew it, but she couldn't let this happen. She couldn't let them take away the one thing that brought her joy. "Just... Just hear me out," she begged, picking up her violin. Music changed the minds of millions of people everyday. Why would her family be any different?

"You heard your father," snapped Mamá.

Rosa ignored her and began to bow on her violin. She winced as it was snatched out of her hand by her father.

"Do you want to end up like that moza?!" he bellowed. "Alone? Forgotten? Left of your family's ofrenda?"

Her temper spiked at that. They were really making her choose. Music or family. They would really shun her if she chose to follow her dream. How could they do that to her, or Miguel for that matter? If family really was more important than music, why should it be the factor that ruled their lives? They would outcast her so willingly because of it.

"Maybe I don't want to be on the stupid ofrenda!" she shouted back.

There was a collective gasp from the family (including Miguel) and she was sure she had never seen her papá so angry. He raised her valuable possession above his head.

"No!" she shrieked, realizing what he was doing.

Mamá looked at him warily. "Berto-"

He flung her violin onto the ground, shattering the handmade instrument into pieces and beyond repair. "There," he said, satisfied. "No instrument, no plaza, no music."

Rosa's mouth hung open as she crouched down to her destroyed instrument. It had taken her almost three years to save up enough money and nearly five months to make it passable as a violin. The bow- which was real- had costed even more (and what was a bow without the violin?). She remembered being so elated when it was finally done. She had been so proud of herself, so excited to finally be a little more like her idol.

All that money and energy gone and wasted because of her father.

She didn't even know she was breathing so heavy or that there were tears in her eyes until her abuelita put her hand on her shoulder. "There, there, mija," she soothed. "You'll feel better after you eat with your family-"

Rosa stood abruptly, shoving the woman's hand off her shoulder. "I hate this family!" she screeched, snatching the picture from her father before taking off into town.

"Rosa!" she heard her father call behind her as she ran. "Rosa!"

She ignored him, putting as much distance between her and the other Rivera's as she could. She was acting like her cousin would, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Maybe she should be more like him since being careful got her nowhere.

She didn't care what anybody said anymore, she was going to that talent show. And nobody was going to stand in her way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I usually keep my chapters to around 2000 each, but for some reason, this story had me writing around 3000. I guess that's better for you guys, huh? I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please review!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Here's another chapter for all you beautiful people! Please enjoy!

Rosa's legs had managed to carry her all the way to Mariachi Plaza and by that time, it was already dark. She stopped when she caught sight of people at the gazebo signing up for the talent show. Rosa sniffed and wiped her nose, adjusting her magenta glasses as they had gone askew on her face. She had cried the entire way there, angry and hurt at her family- especially her father.

How could he have done that to her? Her violin hadn't been fancy in the least, but it had been hers. Her most prized possession, her salvation from reality.

And they had ripped it away from her.

Suddenly, Rosa felt like crying all over again as she gripped her cousin's red hoodie (he had loaned it to her just before her attempt to sneak out) closer to her. Why couldn't they just understand? She was a good daughter; she never got in trouble, always did what she was told to do. So, why couldn't they just let her have this?

Well, if they wouldn't let her have it, she was going to have to take it.

Rosa approached the woman in charge of sign-ups. "Señora," she spoke, but her voice was hoarse from her tears. "Señora, can I still sign up? ¿Por favor?"

The woman looked down at her. "What's your act, muchacha?" she asked gently.

"V-Violin," she answered.

"And do you have one with you?"

Rosa faltered. "Can't I just borrow one?" she almost begged. They had to have a spare somewhere, right? This was a talent show!

The woman gave her a pitying look. "Musicians have to have their own instruments," she told her. "You find one, chica, I'll put you on the list."

Rosa sighed. No way was anyone here going to let her borrow one. The mariachi she had talked to that morning had been a particularly kind person. She knew from experience that musicians were usually stingy with their instruments. It would take a one in a million chance that she would run into someone as generous as she had been.

Disheartened, the girl stopped in front of the monument statue to Earlina De Paula. "What would you do?" she asked rhetorically, knowing that the lifeless figure couldn't answer. She could feel the picture in her pocket, as if it was giving her reassurance. A firework went off in the distance, illuminating the woman's saying engraved in the stone she stood on.

Let nothing stand in your way.

Those words gave Rosa an idea.

OoOoOo

This was a bad idea.

Rosa knew that as soon as the plan formed in her head (it was such a Miguel move, how could it not be?). She stood outside Earlina De Paula's tomb, knowing that if she was caught she'd be in so much trouble. But what other choice did she have? Creeping quietly, she lugged herself onto the edge of the window sill.

Rosa pulled on the window, trying to nudge it open gently and without causing any noticeable damage. It wouldn't budge. She peered inside and cursed under her breath. It was locked. She glanced up as more fireworks went off in the distance. The talent show would be over soon; she was running out of time.

"Perdóname," she whispered, praying to whatever entity was out there that she wouldn't be condemned for this.

So, pretending that she had even an ounce of Miguel's courage, Rosa slammed her shoulder against the window. The lock broke and fell off, falling to the floor with a loud clang - and the window swung open effortlessly. She jumped down from her spot on the sill and onto the cold stone floor, stumbling a bit as she tried to regain her balance.

Rosa looked up, her eyes trained on the lovely violin case propped up onto the wall. It was even more beautiful in person. The deep violet leather case, decorated with a white flower - a cempasuchil, if she were to guess - in the middle. It wasn't a traditional violin case, but that was one of the many things that had gotten De Paula noticed in the first place.

She reached forward and allowed her fingers to graze the sleek case. Dios, it was gorgeous. She ran her fingers over the latches and tentatively undid them, revealing an even more gorgeous violin inside. Maple in wood, a fully sized 4/4 and a bow to match. It was everything she had ever dreamed about. Rosa reached for it, letting her hands caress the smooth wood. Did she dare...?

Before she could touch the case, however, Rosa stopped herself and pulled back. "This... This isn't technically stealing, right?" she thought aloud. "I'm just borrowing it for an hour; maybe even less. No one's going to miss it for an hour." Her eyes landed on the coffin that held De Paula's body.

"You wouldn't mind, right?" she asked, even though she knew the woman wouldn't- couldn't- answer her. "You always said to let nothing stand in your way. You would have done the same, right?" Of course, there was no answer. "You would have done whatever it took, I think. I also think that you would encourage your great-great granddaughter to if you could."

Making up her mind, Rosa grabbed the violin by its neck with one hand and wrapped her other hand around the bow. "I'll bring it right back," she promised. Taking a deep breath, she began bowing the instrument to test the sound. It sounded perfect, as if age had no effect on De Paula's legacy.

Unknown to the girl, the cempasuchil petals behind her began to blow around her. Some even flickered a magical gold color.

A shout behind her brought Rosa out of her reverie. Her head snapped up to see people gathering outside the window she had broken in. Panic swelled in her chest at the thought of being caught as a thief.

Dios, why had she thought this would work?! This was the tomb of Earlina De Paula, the greatest musician of all time! Of course people were going to notice that her tomb was broken into. Of course people were going to realize she was playing Earlina De Paula's violin! Voices seemed to be coming from all directions and she crouched down out of sight, clutching the instrument as close to her as possible.

"The violin's gone!"

"Someone stole De Paula's violin! Look!"

What had she been thinking?

The door busted open and a flashlight was shone into the tomb. "Who's in here?" a man barked.

Immediately, Rosa set the violin and bow on the floor and held up her hands. "¡Lo siento mucho!" she cried, immediately giving in. She didn't care if they took the violin, as long as she didn't end up in jail! "I-I just wanted to play in the plaza! I didn't think De Paula would have minded, I'm her great-great-"

She was cut off by the man walking straight through her.

Her jaw went slack as she watched him completely ignore her presence and pick the violin up. "There's no one in here," he declared, setting the violin and bow back in their case.

Rosa stared at him. "¿S-Señor?" she asked. "Can you see me?"

The man gave no answer as he closed the case, the violin and bow locked firmly inside.

Something was terribly wrong.

Rosa stumbled back, only to have another person walk right through her. Then another. Then another. She jumped out of the way and put a hand on her chest, trying to come up with a logical explanation for this. People didn't walk through other people, that was loco! Had she hit her head at some point? Was this all a dream?

She pinched herself and winced at the pain. No. Not a dream.

Carefully, Rosa crept out of the tomb, trying to keep her distance from other people. There was something unnatural going on here, she just didn't know what it was. She shuddered as someone else walked through her. It was a strange feeling, like she wasn't really there even though she knew she was.

She didn't know what to make of it.

"Rosa!"

"Rosa, we're sorry!"

"Rosa, please come home!"

The sound of her name being called caught her attention. Rosa turned to see her mother, father, and cousin all gathered in the cemetery and felt relief flow through her. A small, soft smile made its way onto her face as she ran towards them, her arms open wide. All previous anger with her Mamá and Papá seemed to disappear and all she wanted was a hug from her parents.

Her hopes were shattered, however, as she passed through them as well. She looked on in horror as they walked on, as if she hadn't been standing right in front of their faces.

Rosa made a desperate last-ditch effort to reach out to her family. "Miguel!" she exclaimed, lunging to grab her cousin's wrist. However, she didn't make contact, which caused her to stumble forward and plunge right into an open grave. She landed on the ground with a thump and groaned.

This gave her a chance to think about what was happening.

How was this all possible? According to most scary movies, only ghosts could pass through people like that. So, was she a ghost? Or was there something more going on? Was she stuck in some sort of limbo? Maybe this was punishment for not listening to her family.

"¡Dios mio!" exclaimed a woman, standing over the grave. "Little girl, are you okay?" She offered a gloved hand. "Here, let me help you."

Rosa, thankful that someone could see her, took it without hesitation and the woman pulled her up. "Gracias, Señora, I-" She stopped when she was able to catch sight of the woman's face.

The woman's skeleton face.

She shrieked, the woman shrieked and Rosa, trying to get away, fall onto the ground. She picked herself up and ran as far as she could. Where she was going, she didn't know, but all she knew was that there were not supposed to be skeletons walking around.

Then again, she wasn't supposed to be walking through people, either.

Suddenly, she was seeing them everywhere. Skeletons. They were all over the place, watching over what seemed to be their families. They were walking and talking just like any other person, fawning over their loved ones. Had Abuelita been right? Was Día de los Muertos more than just a simple holiday? She hid behind a random tombstone, trying to gather her thoughts and catch her breath.

"Rosa? Shouldn't you be at the house?"

Rosa turned to come face-to-face with another skeleton, though this one was familiar. She was tall and lean and wore round glasses, similar to her own. Her dark hair was atop her head in a bun and she was peering down at her with a stern gaze. Who was this woman and how did she know her name?

The skeleton touched her chin in thought. "I wonder where your parents are," she thought aloud, seemingly not noticing that Rosa could see and hear her. "Surely, they wouldn't let you out of their sight of Día de los Muertos?" She chuckled. "I'm sure my sister would never allow it, anyway. Dios, you're getting to be big." Sister? Who was she talking about?

Rosa's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as she realized who she was talking to. "T-Tía Victoria?" she asked, uncertainty and disbelief dripping from her voice.

Tía Victoria froze, looking down at her with shock. "You... You can see me?" she sputtered out, adjusting her glasses. "How can this be?" She poked her cheek, eyes narrowed. "You're not dead, are you?"

Rosa gulped. She hadn't even thought of that possibility. "I hope not."

"Then, why-?"

"Rosie!" The girl stumbled as she was brought into another skeleton's arms. This woman had a much bigger figure than Tía Victoria and was dressed in all pink. "Oh, mija, you get more beautiful every time I see you!"

"Tía, let the poor girl breathe," muttered Tía Victoria, who had been roughly pushed to the side.

The woman complied, releasing Rosa from her grip. "Oh, lo siento, mija, but I couldn't help myself!" she exclaimed. "I never thought we'd get this chance! At least, not for a while..."

Rosa, once she could gather herself, squinted at the woman. "T-Tía Rosita?" she realized.

Tía Rosita waved. "Sí."

A shorter man with a gray mustache and a hate came up next to her. "Rosa? You're here? And you can actually see us?"

She tilted her head. "Papá Julio?"

He gave her a nervous smile. "Hola," he greeted, waving.

Tía Victoria gave a thoughtful hum as she examined her great niece. "You don't seem entirely dead," she observed.

Another living person walked through her, making her shudder once more. "But you're not quite alive either," added Tía Rosita.

Papá Julio gripped his hat. "Oh, where is Papá Héctor?" he fretted. "He's usually the first one here!"

Rosa was having trouble making sense of anything. All these people were simply pictures on the Rivera ofrenda. Or, they used to be. Now, she was here with them, talking with them. It all felt too surreal. Suddenly, a large bark grabbed her attention. "Dante!" she exclaimed, spotting the Xolo dog, who was sitting patiently in front of her. "You can see me?"

She supposed that Dante- no matter how stupid he was- was still a dog. Dogs were known to have more heightened senses than humans. Maybe he couldn't see her since they didn't have very good eyesight, but he could be using his hearing and sense of smell. Could he see all the dead? It looked like it.

Looked like the perro mundo was good for something after all.

"Oye!"

Everyone turned to see two more skeletons- identical skeletons, at that- rushing towards them. They both crouched down, out of the breath. "It's Papá Héctor!" one exclaimed.

"He couldn't cross over!" the other added. There was a collective gasp among the skeleton Rivera's.

"He's stuck!"

"On the other side!"

By far, those two were the easiest to recognize. "Tío Oscar?" she guessed easily. "Tío Felipe?"

Tío Oscar- or was it Felipe?- smiled and waved. "Oh, hey Rosa," he greeted. His eyes widened as he realized who he was speaking to and he leaned against his brother in slight fear. "Rosa?"

Tía Victoria gave her a scrutinizing look. "I have a feeling this has something to do with you!" she accused.

"But if Papá Héctor can't come to us-" began Tía Rosita.

Papá Julio took Rosa's hand. "Then we are going to him!" he declared. "¡Vámonos!" He led her through the cemetery, passing by all the skeletons visiting with their families. Her eyes went wide upon seeing a giant, golden bridge where more of them were walking across.

Papá Julio tried to lead her onto the bridge, but she stopped short. She could see, upon further inspection, that the bridge was made entirely of cempasuchil petals, nothing else to support it. Was she meant to walk on that? "Come, mija," he coaxed. "It's okay. I promise."

Deciding to trust her great grandfather, Rosa stepped onto the bridge. The petals glowed under her touch, but seemed to hold her weight. So, she ventured on. As the family walked, she dared to pluck a little petal from the bridge and examine it. This- everything she had encountered tonight- defied every sense of logic she had learned in school.

She let the wind blow the petal from her hand and noticed her cousin's beloved dog ahead of her. "Dante!" she shouted, racing to catch up with him. If she lost that dog, she would never hear the end of it from Miguel.

Her eyes widened, however, when she saw what was ahead. A brilliant city covered with lights and houses clustered together, but not in a smothering way. The houses spiraled upright into a winding pattern. It was a beautiful design for a city. "Wow..." breathed Rosa. "This... This is amazing!" How she wished her cousin could see this, he would love it! "I can't believe you're all really here..."

Coming up behind her, Tía Victoria raised an eyebrow. "You thought we weren't?" she questioned.

She shrugged. "You have to admit, those stories have always been far-fetched," she pointed out. "Miguel and I never paid much attention when Abuelita would go on and on about today. We always thought it was a made-up thing adults told kids. Like-" She stopped, looking at her great aunt bashfully.

"Like what?" the woman asked.

Rosa blushed. "Well, Mamá used to tell me that if you ate a watermelon seed, one would grow in your stomach," she admitted. "After that, I didn't eat watermelons for two years."

Tía Victoria rolled her eyes.

A little skeleton girl traveling to the living world gasped and pointed at her. "Mija," scolded her mother. "It's not nice to stare at-" She turned to look at Rosa and exclaimed, "Ay, Santa Maria!" She ran forward, pulling her daughter with her.

Rosa blushed, covering as much of her face as she could with Miguel's hood. But as she did this, she noticed that there were all types of animals flying around. Animals unlike any she had ever seen. "Are those Alebrijes? Real ones?" She had only ever seen decorative ones placed on ofrendas, but these were much more impressive to look at.

"Sí," answered Tío Oscar. "Spirit creatures."

"They guide souls on their journey," explained Tía Rosita.

"Watch your step," warned Tío Felipe. "They make caquitas everywhere."

The family came upon what resembled a train station entrance, but was labeled, 'Re-Entry.' Welcome back to the Land of the Dead, announced a voice over the intercom. Please have all offerings ready for re-entry. If you are experiencing travel issues, agents at the Department of Family Reunions are available to assist you. And for those departing, remember to return before sunrise. Enjoy your visit.

Rosa glanced over to the 'Departure' section of the station, where skeletons were getting their faces scanned. From what she understood, the machine would be able to tell if your picture was up on an ofrenda and that was when you could cross the bridge.

A woman in particular caught her attention. She was wearing a torn violet dress, though her hair was neat and braided in the back. "Go ahead, Señora," she muttered bitterly. "Check your devil-box. I know my pictures isn't up."

The clerk gave her a pitying look, but did as asked. The machine flashed read. "Lo siento, Señora," she sympathized. "but your photo's not up."

The woman sighed. "Just like every year. Stupid bridge, stupid devil-box." She turned away and stalked off. Rosa found herself feeling bad for her. It must have been horrible to be unable to cross the bridge on the one day the deceased could. Did she not have any family to put up her photo?

"Oh, I don't know what I'd do if no one put my photo up," murmured Tía Rosita.

"Next!"

She instantly perked up, grabbing Rosa's hand. "Come, mija," she urged. "It's out turn!"

"Welcome back, amigos," greeted the clerk cheerfully. "Anything to declare?"

"As a matter of fact," said Papá Julio nervously, pushing Rosa to the front and gently pulling back her hood. "Yes."

Rosa smiled shyly. "H-Hola." The clerk's actual jaw fell to the floor.

OoOoOo

The deceased Rivera's led Rosa inside the train station, Dante by her side (the stupid dog just wouldn't leave her alone). They walked through the halls, and she observed everything about the place. From the trolleys hanging above the ceiling filled to the brink with skeletons, to the normal-looking trains below them. Skeletons gawked at her as they walked, making her feel slightly self-conscious.

Tío Oscar bent down to her level to observe her and sighed. "I miss my nose," he muttered.

Rosa gave him a sympathetic smile. "That's understandable."

The family entered a door labeled 'Department of Family Reunions,' the two guards opening the doors for them immediately once they caught sight of her. Rosa observed her surroundings. The skeletons here looked particularly frantic, probably due to travel issues.

"Mi amiga, please," begged one man, in a far corner of the room. He was tall and thin and wore an apron. "There's no way my photo's not up. My family always puts my photo up."

"Lo siento, Señor," apologized the clerk he was talking to. "but it says here that no one put your photo up."

He seemed to get more frustrated with those words. "I have been here for over fifty years," he told her. "Not once in those fifty years has my photo ever been left of the ofrenda. Your-" He gestured to her computer. "blinky-thingy must be on the fritz."

The Rivera's approached him. "Papá Héctor?" asked Papá Julio tentatively.

The man turned around, a scowl on his face that instantly disappeared when he saw them. "Oh, mi familia!" he exclaimed happily. "They wouldn't let me cross the bridge! Can you believe that?" He beamed at them. "But you were at the ofrenda! You saw my photo, right? Tell her that my photo is up and that her blinky-thingy is malfunctioning or something!"

Papá Julio chuckled nervously. "We actually never made it to the ofrenda," he revealed.

The man's eyes went wide. "¿Qué? ¿Por qué?" he asked, his expression immediately melting into one of concern. "Did something happen?"

"You could say that, Abuelito," chimed in Tía Victoria, adjusting her glasses.

Papá Julio sent his daughter a look. "Not helping," he muttered before turning back to his father-in-law. "You see, we ran into..." The family parted ways to reveal Rosa in the center. Jumped slightly at being the center of attention and looked up at the man nervously. Her thoughts immediately flew back to the photo and had seen on her ofrenda for her entire life.

More importantly, the picture that currently resided in her pocket.

The man gasped in shock. "Rosa?" he asked.

Rosa gave him an anxious grin and waved. "Papá Héctor," she greeted.

Papá Héctor gave his family a scrutinizing look, not unlike Tía Victoria's. "What is going on here?" he demanded.

A door suddenly opened, grabbing the group's attention. "You the Rivera family?" asked a clerk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was longer than I wanted it to be, but I suppose that it's better for y'all. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter and please review!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I couldn't help myself and updated again. I can't help myself, okay? I like writing. :3 Anyway, please enjoy!

"Well, you're cursed," announced the clerk as the Rivera's settled in his office. It was a particularly crowded office; papers were stacked everywhere, some even taller than Papá Julio. In fact, there was hardly any room on the clerk's desk, there were so many stacks of papers. How he knew where to find anything was a mystery to her. The family, however, gasped at the revelation.

"What, how?" demanded Rosa. Dios, was this her fault? What had she done?

The clerk pointed at her. "You stole from the dead," he accused disapprovingly. "Día de los Muertos is about giving to the dead, chica."

"But I wasn't stealing the violin!" exclaimed Rosa. She may have rebelled against her family's ban on music, but let it be known that Rosa Marigold Rivera was no thief. "I promise, I wasn't!"

Papá Héctor's eyes narrowed in suspicion behind her. "Violin?" he repeated incredulously. What on earth was his great-great granddaughter doing with any kind of instrument (a stolen one at that)?

Rosa ignored him. "It's mine!" she continued. Her expression turned sheepish. "Well, it was my great-great grandmother's, anyway." Her feet shuffled nervously. "I thought she wouldn't mind."

The Rivera's all backed away from the family patriarch as they felt his ire grow. "We never speak of that musician," he spat with contempt. Any mention of his wife always made his blood boil. "She walked out on this family, so she will be dead to it."

Rosa rolled her eyes, putting her hands on her hips. "Everyone in this room is dead," she pointed out. While she got where her great-great grandfather was coming from, that wasn't her problem. All this had happened long before she was born, almost a century ago!

The clerk suddenly sneezed, startling her. "I am sorry, uh, whose alebrije is that?" he asked as Dante nipped at the snacks on his desk.

It was then that Rosa realized that the dog was still with her. "Him?" She scowled at the animal. "That's just Dante and he is not mine. He's my cousin's."

"He sure doesn't look like an Alebrije," commented Tía Rosita, gesturing to the magnificent creatures soaring out the window.

"He just looks like a plain old mutt," agreed Tío Felipe.

"Or a sausage someone dropped in a barber shop," added Tío Oscar. Tía Victoria rolled her eyes at the both of them.

"Whatever he is- ACHOO- I am terribly allergic," the clerk told her.

Rosa tilted her head in confusion. "But he's a Xolo dog," she said. "He doesn't have any hair."

"And I don't have a nose," sniffed the clerk. "and yet here we are." He sneezed loudly again.

Papá Héctor began to pace in thought. "But there's still no explanation as to why I couldn't cross over," he stated in confusion.

Rosa flinched, remembering the picture in her pocket. She chuckled nervously. "Funny thing about that, Papá Héctor. You're gonna laugh..." She took the photo out and held it out towards him.

Papá Héctor gasped. "You took my picture off the ofrenda!?" he exclaimed in disbelief, gripping his hair.

She jumped back, startled. "I didn't mean to!" She suddenly felt bad. If the people here need their pictures up to cross the bridge, then she had actively stopped her great-great grandfather from crossing, from seeing his only daughter.

"How do we get her home?" the patriarch demanded, practically lunging at the clerk's desk.

The clerk seemed unperturbed by the man's tone and volume. "Well, since it's a family matter, the way to undo a family curse is to get your family's blessing."

Rosa sighed in relief. "That's it?" she asked.

He nodded. "Get your family's blessing and everything should go back to normal," he explained. While the uncertainty of his tone made her slightly nervous, she supposed that it was worth a shot. Besides, how else could you undo a family curse? The clerk suddenly pointed at her, making her flinch in surprise. "But you gotta do it before sunrise!"

"W-What happens after sunrise?" she stuttered, suddenly scared for the consequences for her actions.

"¡Mija!" exclaimed Papá Julio exclaimed suddenly. "Your hand!"

Rosa examined her hand and gasped. The tip of her right index finger now resembled that of a skeleton's. Rosa let out an ear-piercing scream as she started to feel lightheaded.

"Mija, mija," coaxed Papá Julio, shaking her shoulder lightly. "Don't faint on us now, sí?"

"S-Sí," responded Rosa, swallowing the pit in her stomach trying to climb its way up her throat. They were going to fix this. Her family would give her her blessing, then send her home.

"Not to worry," assured the clerk, pulling himself away from his desk and standing up. "Your family's here. You can get your blessing right now." He began to search the wooden floor for something. "Cempasuchil, cempasuchil..." He finally found what he was looking for- a petal from the bridge apparently- on the bottom of Tía Rosita's dress. "Aha!" He plucked the petal off her dress and looked up to the woman nervously. "Perdon, señora."

Tía Rosita giggled. "Oh."

"Now," instructed the clerk to Papá Héctor, holding the petal out to him. "you look at the living and say her name."

Papá Héctor complied, taking the petal from the short man. "Rosa," he spoke simply, though his tone was soft as he gazed down at her.

"Wonderful! Now say, 'I give you my blessing...'"

"I give you my blessing," reiterated Papá Héctor. The petal glowed gold in his hand.

Rosa gazed at it in bewilderment, excitement bubbling in her chest. She was going home! If she hurried, maybe she would have enough time to play in the plaza! Oh, she couldn't wait to tell Miguel all about her journey! He would probably believe her, the niño ingenuo. Or maybe not, it was pretty far-fetched and her cousin wasn't quite the gullible kid he used to be. Though, if the situation were reversed, she'd be skeptical too.

"I give you my blessing to go home," Papá Héctor continued, something flashing through his eyes that she couldn't quite identify. "to put my photo back on the ofrenda, and to give up music forever!"

Wait, what?

"What?" exclaimed Rosa, outraged. "You, I-" She turned to the clerk helplessly. "He can't do that!" With uncertainty, she added, "Can he?"

"Lo siento, chica," apologzied the clerk. "Since he's the one giving the blessing, he can add whatever condition he pleases. Now, you hand the petal to Rosa."

Papá Héctor grinned smugly, waving the petal in front of her face. "So, what's it going to be, chamaca?" he mocked (well, maybe he wasn't, but it sure felt like it). "It's my way or the highway."

Rosa stared up at her great-great grandfather, rage bubbling in her core. He was just like her living family! He didn't understand her at all! But she couldn't very well refuse, either. That was like passing up the chance to go home. Glancing at her other deceased family, she could tell that she wasn't going to get their blessings, not if they went against Papá Héctor. Abuelita had told her that Papá Héctor's word had been law when he was alive and had stayed law when he died.

Somehow, she doubted that it wasn't the same here.

Sure, she could just take the petal and then play in the plaza anyway. She could completely disregard the terms of the blessing and go about her normal life. But could she take that chance? What if something worse happened? And if she did take the petal and abide by the terms, what would happen then? All the joy would be sucked out of her life. Her cousin, who oh-so loved music, would be hurt and confused as to why she was ignoring him.

She would be stuck making shoes for the rest of her life.

So, Rosa asked a simple question. "Do you really hate music that much?"

Papá Héctor's eyes narrowed. "I will not have you follow in her footsteps," he insisted. It was bad enough that she looked and acted like his wife. Every time he looked into that girl's eyes, he saw her.

He would be damned if he let her ruin her life.

"Her footsteps," repeated Rosa quietly. So quietly, in fact, that the other Rivera's hadn't even heard her. She unfolded the photo, staring at the faceless woman as the pieces came together in her head. "She's family."

"Listen to your Papá Héctor," advised Tía Victoria behind her. The other Rivera's followed suit.

"He's just looking out for you," added Tío Felipe (or Oscar; she still couldn't tell them apart).

"Be reasonable," begged Tía Rosita, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"Con permiso," said Rosa suddenly, shrugging her deceased relatives away. "Tengo que usar el baño." She rushed out of the office before anyone could say or do anything to stop her.

The clerk raised an eyebrow. "Should someone tell her that we have no bathrooms in the Land of the Dead?"

OoOoOo

Rosa raced down the steps, trying to put as much distance between herself and the other Rivera's as possible. She quickly ducked behind a railing, only to have Dante walk forward in plain sight. She cursed under her breath. "Perro mundo," she hissed, grabbing him and yanking him towards her. "You're gonna get me caught." She glanced up to see her family contacting the authorities, no doubt about tracking her down.

She peeked around the corner, quickly spotting the exit. It was so close... Shoving Miguel's hood over her head, Rosa made her way through the crowd of skeletons. "Venga, Dante!" she ordered the dog, who followed her without question.

"We have a family looking for a living girl," announced the policewoman on her transceiver.

Just perfect.

"If I want to keep playing music, I need the blessing of someone who understands," rambled Rosa to herself. "Someone who loved music just as much as I do. I'm gonna have to track down my great-great grandma."

Suddenly, there was a hand on her shoulder. "Hold it, muchacha." Rosa slowly turned around, facing the policeman and smiling nervously. He fumbled around for his transceiver. "I-I found that living girl!"

Rosa was about to run for her life when a group of skeletons bustled by. Seeing an opportunity, she dove into the crowd, making sure to lose the cop's eyes on her in the process. Staying hidden around the corner as the baffled cop looked around, she darted away from him. She made sure to stay in a secluded section of the building.

Dante whined and began to walk away from her, causing Rosa to quickly trail after him. "Dumb dog, get back here!" she whispered harshly. She followed him into another room where two voices could be heard.

"Please, Señor," begged a familiar, feminine voice. "There has to be a way across that bridge. I have to get across!"

There was a ragged sigh. "I'm sorry, Señora, it just isn't possible," responded a rough, masculine voice. "No photo up, no crossing."

"Please, I'll do anything!" offered the woman. "You like De Paula? She and I were practically sisters! I could get you tickets to her Shining Sunrise Celebration! I-I can get you backstage to meet her! Please, I'll do anything!"

"I-I'm sorry, Señora," apologized the man. "I really am. I couldn't get you across that bridge."

The woman sighed sadly. "Of course, Señor," she muttered. There was the sound of a chair sliding against the floor. "I'm sorry to take up your time. I'm sure you have your own family you're trying to see."

"Better luck next year, Señora."

Rosa quickly ducked down as the woman she had seen earlier- the one who had been unable to cross the bridge- stalked pass her. A grin began to form on her face as she mulled over the woman's words. If she could somehow get that woman to bring her to De Paula, she would be able to go home! On top of that, she'd be able to meet her idol!

It was a double-win!

So, without another thought, Rosa raced after her. "Señora, Señora!" she called out, catching up to the woman. "Do you really know De Paula?"

The woman began to turn around. "Yes, what of-" She stopped short at seeing the young girl before her. "¡Ay Dios mío!" Acting quickly, the girl shoved her into a nearby phone booth before she attracted to much attention. "You- you are alive!"

"Yes, I'm alive!" hissed Rosa. "And I need your help to get to De Paula. I need her blessing so I can get back home, to the Land of the Living."

The woman stared down at her, incredulous. "Why- what-" She squinted. "Who in the world are you?"

She sighed. "I'm De Paula's great-great granddaughter."

The woman's jaw went slack. "You're her what?" She thought about this for a minute. "Give me a moment, chica. Hmm... maybe we could-" Rosa perked up. "No, that would never work." She frowned. "But what if- Yes! Yes, that will do!"

Rosa raised her hand. "A little clueless over here."

The woman glanced down at her. "You're going back to the Land of the Living, yes?" she asked.

She nodded. "Sí," she answered, though she wasn't really paying attention as she glanced outside of the phone booth to see if any of her relatives were in sight.

"I'll make a deal with you then, niña," declared the woman.

Suddenly, her own eyes made contact with Papá Héctor's. "Rosa!" he boomed from across the room, making his way towards her with the rest of the family in tow.

The woman held out her hand. "My name is Imelda," she introduced.

"A pleasure," Rosa rushed as she pulled the woman in the other direction. She wasn't going to let them take away her only solace in life and if that meant trusting this mysterious woman, so be it.

Imelda struggled to keep up with the girl's fast pace. "¡Ay, despacio, niña!" she begged. They were a good distance from the building as she tugged her arm back. "What is with the rush?"

Rosa glanced around nervously. "I'll explain later," she promised. "Right now, though, we have to move."

Imelda seemed to think about this before nodding. "Vamonos, chica," she ushered. The two took off running through the crowd once more.

OoOoOo

Meanwhile, the deceased Rivera's piled out of the building. Everyone except for Héctor fell to the ground while the patriarch trailed behind them. "Ay, this girl," he complained. She was definitely too much like her great-great grandmother; stubborn to the bone. "She is going to lose her life out there! I'll have to use my spirit guide to track her down. Pepita!" He whistled loudly into the air.

Atop one of the tall towers, Héctor's spirit animal gave a mighty roar. Her wings fanned out as the great beast- cat based, but with the wings of a hawk and the tail of a lizard- soared towards them, touching down right in front of her master. The other Rivera's backed away in slight fear.

Héctor smiled, petting the alebrije on her nose. "Good girl," he cooed before turning to his family. "Does anyone have something Rosa touched?"

Julio stepped forward hesitantly, holding out Rosa's hair clip that she had dropped just before she had run out on them. "N-Nice alebrije," he stuttered.

Pepita sniffed the petal before stepping forward. She huffed out, creating a series of blue footprints leading into town. She gave another roar before taking off into the sky.

"Follow her!" ordered Héctor and the family immediately obeyed.

OoOoOo

Back with Rosa, Imelda was applying black and white paint to her face, attempting to make her look more like a skeleton. "Ay, ay, keep still," the woman instructed. "Look up. A ver, a ver." She sighed as the girl kept fidgeting. "Hold still, chiquita, or you're going to make me mess up. We went you to blend in, but you can't do that if you look deformed."

Rosa winced. "Lo siento."

Imelda nodded, finishing up the final touches. "And, we're done!" she announced, handing the girl a mirror. "¡Te ves magnífico!"

Rosa took it, examining herself. "Wow, you did a really good job," she praised, admiring the woman's work. Her face was white with dark circles around her eyes. She also had a few swirls on her face, similar to the markings other skeletons had.

"Sí, sí," agreed Imelda. "Now, listen up, Rosa. The Land of the Dead runs on memories. Usually, your photo gets put up on your family's ofrenda once you die. When that happens, you're able to cross the bridge on Día de los Muertos. That's when you can visit your living family." She frowned. "Well, most people do, anyway."

Rosa tilted her head. "You can't cross over?" she asked softly.

Imelda sighed. "No one's ever put up my photo," she responded. She then smiled at the girl, taking her picture out of her dress pocket and handing it to her. "But you can fix that!"

Rosa took the picture into her hands, looking it over. Imelda had been a very beautiful woman with her hair back and a radiant smile on her face. She looked from the picture to the skeleton that now stood before her. It was strange, looking at a skeleton's living picture. She could see the resemblance, but at the same time, it was like looking at two different people. "This... is a nice picture of you," she complimented.

Imelda beamed at her. "Gracias, chiquita."

Rosa thought for a moment. "So, if you get me to my great-great grandmother and I get her blessing to go back home, I take back your photo and put it on my family's ofrenda?"

Imelda grinned. "Smart girl," she praised. "Yes, those were my thoughts exactly!" She grimaced. "There's just one small problem. De Paula is a difficult woman to get to and I must cross that bridge tonight. So, do you have any other family I can get you to? Someone a lot less... busy?"

She tensed at that. If Imelda knew that she had six relatives she could get her blessing from, she would get dragged there as soon as the words left her mouth. No, she couldn't tell her that. She wasn't giving up music. Music was her life and she wasn't letting anyway take it away from her.

So, she lied.

"No," answered Rosa. "Just De Paula."

Imelda raised an eyebrow, the movement scarily reminding her of Tía Victoria. "Are you sure?" she asked skeptically. "No other family?"

Rosa shrugged. "Not that I know of." She stood up, pushing the woman's photo into her hands. "Of course, if you're not up to helping me, I completely understand. I'll just find De Paula on my own." She whistled for Dante to follow her.

Imelda cursed under her breath. "Alright chiquita, alright," she agreed begrudgingly. "I'll get you to your great-great grandmother." She sighed, knowing that she was getting herself into a whole lot of trouble.

She just hoped it was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I'm doing alright with Hector and Imelda. It wasn't as hard to switch Miguel and Rosa since Rosa was barely in the movie, but Hector and Imelda is another story. Let me know if I can do anything better. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help myself. Here's another chapter! Please enjoy!

"This won't be easy, chiquita," warned Imelda as they strolled down the streets. A scowl made its way onto her face. "De Paula is always surrounded by her fans, always hosting another event." With no time for her oldest friend, she added bitterly to herself. As soon as the other woman had come to the Land of the Dead, she avoided Imelda like the plague. She figured it had to do with the fact that it was her songs that had made her famous and that the older woman had no actual songwriting ability, so she didn't push it.

Rosa was hardly listening as something caught her eye. A giant, golden billboard with a cutout of her idol on it. "Wow!" she exclaimed in admiration, leaning over the railing to look at it. "'Earlina De Paula's Shining Sunrise Celebration,' qué padre!"

Imelda frowned. "Step away from the rail, chiquita, you could fall," she fussed, tugging the girl back. "Earlina holds this party every year on this day to mark the end of Día de los Muertos. Over the top if you ask me."

She pursed her lips. "Didn't you say you had front row tickets?" she asked, recalling the conversation between her and the man from earlier. "And backstage passes?"

Imelda stopped, glancing down at the girl with slight regret. "That... may have been an exaggeration," she admitted. She then sighed in defeat. "I wasn't even invited."

Rosa glared up at her. "Seriously?" The only reason she had approached the woman was because she thought she had access to her great-great grandmother. How could she help her if they couldn't even get to De Paula?

Imelda sighed. "Don't give me that look, chiquita. I'll figure something out. I know where she's rehearsing, maybe we can catch her." She began to walk away. "Vámonos." Rosa stared at her with skepticism, but followed nonetheless.

What other choice did she have?

OoOoOo

After around half and hour of walking, they approached a large complex. Rosa made sure to stay close to her companion, not quite knowing what to expect. "Oye, Ceci!" Imelda called up to one of the higher floors. "It's me!"

The window opened to reveal a redhead who didn't look much older than Imelda. She immediately smiled upon seeing them. "Ah, my favorite model!" she gushed, cranking the handle for the staircase come down. "Come in, come in!"

Rosa looked to Imelda to see if it was safe. At the older woman's nod, she began to climb the steps, ignoring the uncertain creaking sound they made. "H-Hola," she greeted as she stepped through the window. She looked around the room and smiled brightly. She was in the presence of a designer, that much was certain as there were drawings, fabric, and unfinished dresses everywhere.

Ceci looked at her friend with sympathy. "Didn't work again, huh?"

Imelda sighed. "No." She sat on a nearby chair. "I suppose I've no one to blame but myself, huh?"

"Oh, don't say that, mi amiga. It was bad luck."

Rosa caught Miguel's dog sneaking out from the corner of her eye and quickly followed him. "Dante!" she hissed. "We shouldn't be in here! We're not in Santa Cecilia anymore!" However, she couldn't help but look at the stage props. They were magnificent!

It was short lived, however, when she caught Dante getting into a scuffle with a chimp-based alebrije. "Perro munda, get back here!" she exclaimed, giving chase. "Dante, stop! ¡Ven acá!" The two animals knocked things over, effectively making a mess of things.

She finally caught the dog, only to come face-to-face with a tall, lean woman with a unibrow. "You!" she shouted, startling the girl. "How did you get in here?"

"I-I'm sorry!" stuttered Rosa. "I was just following-"

The woman suddenly gasped, cupping Dante's face with her hands. "Oh, the mighty Xolo dog!" she gushed. "Guider of wandering spirits." She turned to face Rosa, a smile on her face. "And whose spirit have you guided to me?"

Rosa regarded the woman warily. "I don't think he's a spirit guide..." Why was this woman so familiar to her? That unibrow was definitely sending her some vibes.

"Ah, ah, ah," the woman tutted. "The alebrijes of this world can take many forms. They are as mysterious as they are powerful." As if to prove her point, the chimp on her arm let out a huff of blue fire.

They both turned to see Dante choking on his own foot.

"Or, maybe he's just a dog."

It finally hit Rosa as to who this woman was and she gasped. "You're Frida Kahlo!" she exclaimed in excitement. "I learned about you in school!"

Frida beamed. "Sí, chica." She clamped a hand on her shoulder. "Come! I need you eyes!" She sat Rosa down on a nearby bench. "You are the audience." She clapped and the lights flickered off. "Darkness." She lit a single match. "And from the darkness, a giant papaya! Dancer emerge from the papaya, and the dancers are all me! And they go to drink from the milk of their mother, who is a cactus. But who is also me! And her milk is not milk, but tears."

As Frida narrated, Rosa watched in amazement as the scene played out. It was strange, but at the same time utterly amazing! There was just one thing that could make it better.

The artist turned to get her opinion. "Too obvious?"

Rosa titled her head in thought. "Maybe a bit," she admitted. "Or, maybe it's not obvious enough. There is something that could help!"

"What's that?"

She grinned. "Music!" she exclaimed. "Try something like, do do do do do!" Frida snapped her fingers and the musicians complied. "Then add something like, dada la, dada la, dada la, dada la, wenk!" Once again, the musicians copied.

Frida looked ecstatic. "And... what if everything was on fire!" she decided. The dancers shared concerned looks and Rosa flinched guiltily. "Yes, fire everywhere! Inspired. You, my dear, have the spirit of an artist."

"+Thanks..."

"The dancers exit, the music fades, and the lights go out," Frida continued the narration. A shadow moved across the cactus. "And Earlina De Paula rises to the stage!" Rosa felt excitement bubble within her before a light turned on, revealing nothing more than a dummy. "He does a couple of songs, the sun rises, everyone cheers..."

"Disculpe Señora," interrupted Rosa. "Where's the real De Paula?"

Frida rolled her eyes. "Earlina doesn't do rehearsals," she answered. "He's too busy hosting that fancy party at the top of his tower." Rosa approached the window and sighed. That was so far! And probably exclusive. How ever was she going to get there?

"Chiquita!" exclaimed Imelda, rounding the corner. "Don't run off on me like that! I was scared half to death!" She took the girl's arm. "Come, we mustn't bother the artists while they work."

Rosa pulled her arm away. "You said that De Paula would be here," she reminded the woman, the annoyance evident in her voice. "She's all the way over there hosting some big party."

Imelda scowled. "That good-for-nothing, self-centered- ugh!" she shouted in frustration. Earlina De Paula was so egotistical that she performed without rehearsing! "Who in their right mind doesn't show up for rehearsal?"

Rosa put her hands on her hips. "You said that you two were as close as sisters," she reminded her. "Why weren't you invited?"

Imelda glared down at her. "Well, why wouldn't she be in the Land of the Living visiting you and your family?" she shot back. "Lord knows there are thousands of ofrendas with her picture on them." She turned to the musicians. "Chicharrón, do you know anything about this party?"

The guitarist- a short, stocky man with a hat similar to Papá Julio's- smirked at her. "It's all anyone's been talking about," he told her smugly. "But you can't get in without a ticket, Solterona!"

"Hey, look!" jeered another musician. "It's Solterona!"

Imelda blushed furiously, fists clenched at her sides. "If you all weren't dead, I'd kill you myself," she threatened venomously.

"Solterona?" questioned Rosa beside her, the word sounding strange. Probably one used in older times. She shivered as she felt the tone of the room drop. Something told her this was dangerous territory.

Chicharrón grinned. "Spinster, chica," he clarified. "You know, an old maid. Died years before her husband and when he finally died, he rejected her!" The other musicians chortled behind him.

Rosa noticed that Imelda was trembling beside her- with rage or sadness, she couldn't tell. "This is why I hate musicians," she spat. "They do what they want and don't care about who they hurt."

Rosa pouted. "I'm a musician."

Imelda looked at her. "You are?"

The girl nodded before turning to glare at the musicians. "Nothing about that seems funny to me," she snapped at the band, who immediately stopped laughing. Even Imelda looked shocked. "In fact, that seems like a horrible thing to laugh about."

The musicians glanced at one another nervously before Chicharrón cleared his throat and spoke again, "There's a music competition at the Plaza De Paula. If you really want to get in that party, the winner gets to play at it."

Rosa mulled this over. "Gracias Señor." She turned to the woman next to her. "Imelda, we should-"

The woman didn't even look at her. "No."

"Imelda, please!" begged Rosa. "This is our one chance to get to that party! How else am I gonna get home and put your photo up?"

Imelda glanced down at her pleading face before sighed. "Fine, fine, fine!" she conceded.

Rosa sighed in relief. "Thank you." She looked up sheepishly. "Do you know where I can get a violin?"

Imelda rolled her eyes. "Come, chiquita. I might know a guy."

OoOoOo

Héctor and the other Rivera's followed Pepita to a small space under a bridge. "Have you found her, Pepita?" asked the patriarch frantically. They had to find Rosa and send her back home and they were losing time. Who knew what could happen to her out there. Some criminals in life have not changed in death. "Have you found our girl?"

Pepita huffed, revealing more footprints. Julio went to investigate. "It's a Rivera flat!" he stated proudly.

"Size six!" observed Oscar.

"And a half," added Felipe.

Victoria nodded. "Pronated," she said with certainty.

Héctor nodded in satisfaction. "It's Rosa, alright." The alebrije sniffed, revealing more footprints. "Follow those prints."

The Rivera's did as they were told, running after the path that the prints made. Héctor sighed and twirled her hair clip in his hands. "Like it or not, chamaca, we're coming."

He would not allow his great-great granddaughter to end up like her. No matter what it took, he would save Rosa from the fate of his wife.

OoOoOo

"Tell me something, chiquita," said Imelda as they journeyed down the unstable, wooden steps. They were on the outskirts of town, a place with no bright lights or fantastical buildings. In fact, the place was as rundown as some of the worst neighborhoods in Santa Cecilia. Imelda made sure to stay close to the girl, lest she get hurt. "Why do you want to be a musician?"

"Why wouldn't I?" asked Rosa, watching her step as she kept walking. "My great-great grandmother was a musician, after all."

Imelda scowled (she seemed to do that a lot). "Sí," she bit out. "She also spent her life exposing herself to crowds around the country. That's not a life you want, chiquita."

Rosa rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she muttered to herself.

Imelda, who heard her, glanced back with a raised eyebrow. "What was that?"

The girl straightened. "Nothing."

Imelda peered over the ledge. "I don't think you'll be able to survive that fall unscathed..." she thought allowed. She herself could, of course, but Rosa was still a living girl. Her eyes traveled to the even more fragile stairs. "We'll take those, but you'll have to keep hold of my hand, okay?"

Rosa was about to protest and state that she was not a baby, but took another look at the rickety stairs and reluctantly held out her hand. Imelda nodded in contentedness and they continued down the steps.

As they walked closer to the houses (not really houses, more like cheaply made shacks), the people there brightened upon seeing Imelda. "Hey, it's Tía Imelda!" announced one man.

"Tía Imelda's back!" declared another one.

Imelda grinned widely and waved. "Hello, everyone!"

Rosa looked around. "Everyone here is your family?" she asked curiously. She had been under the impression that the woman didn't have any family.

"Somewhat," answered the woman, smiling the biggest smile she'd ever seen. "Everyone here is like me, chiquita. They've never had their photos up, either. Almost forgotten, but not quite."

"Why do you all live out here?"

Imelda sighed. "Other skeletons... they tend to look down upon us," she revealed. "You saw how those musicians treated me? Well, that's an example. They think they're better than us. So, most of us reside here. Stick to our own kind. A lot safer that way, you know?"

Rosa frowned. She took in Imelda's yellowed bones and compared them to Papá Héctor's pristine white ones. She hadn't given much thought to it before, but could that be because Papá Héctor was well-remembered in the living world and Imelda wasn't? "That's not right," she finally stated.

Imelda smiled sadly. "No, it's not," she agreed. "But we make the best of it here."

One of the old women playing cards waved them over. "Imelda!" she called.

Imelda immediately brightened. "Chelo!" she greeted cheerfully, taking out a bottle. "Look what I've brought you all."

"Muchas gracias," said Chelo, gratefully taking the bottle and pouring glasses for her friends.

"De nada," responded Imelda. "Is Gustavo around, by any chance?"

Chelo's expression turned grim. "He's in the bungalow," she answered. "but I don't think he's in the mood for visitors. He's-" Her eyes darted to Rosa and her voice lowered to a whisper. "fading."

Imelda's face twisted into one of her more serious expressions. "I see." She took the bottle and poured another glass. "Well, I really need to talk to him, so I'll take this as my peace offering." She nodded to the girl next to her. "Come, Rosa." Rosa followed without question.

OoOoOo

They entered the small house and Rosa cringed. This place was even more crowded than the clerk's office had been! It wasn't even important stuff like the files she had seen, this looked more like it was just junk. She could barely fidget without bumping into something. But she didn't express this to Imelda, knowing that the woman might not have taken it kindly.

Speaking of Imelda, she moved gracefully through the mess, stopping just at the hammock the lied on the other side of the door. "Hola, Gustavo," she greeted softly. This man was as short as Papá Julio and had a beard. He was also surrounded by stuff in his hammock.

"Imelda," said Gustavo gruffly. He looked almost sickly as he stared at the two of them. "What do you want?"

Imelda gave the man a bittersweet smile, holding out the glass to him. "I've brought you something."

Gustavo almost smiled, taking the glass in his hand. "My last drink..." he stated mournfully.

Imelda winced. "I'm so sorry, Gustavo," she whispered. She couldn't help the pit that formed in her metaphorical stomach. Gustavo was definitely fading, just as Chelo had told her. It was so painfully obvious with how ill he looked. And if she didn't get this girl to De Paula soon, the same would happen to her.

He waved her off. "Don't be. It was bound to happen eventually." His gaze hardened as he focused on her face. "Why are you here, Imelda?"

Imelda sighed. "We really need to borrow your violin, amigo," she told him.

Gustavo gripped the violin closer to him. "Why?" he asked suspiciously. "You swore you'd never pick up another instrument again."

She closed her eyes to keep herself from snapping at him. "I know what I said and I'm sticking to that," she bit out. "The violin is for Rosa. We'll bring it right back, I promise."

He examined her face, as if trying to decipher her true goals. "By the time you bring it back, I'll be gone," he told her. "But I will give it to you on one condition." He held the instrument out to her. "You play it for me one last time."

Imelda flinched back. "Gustavo, you know I don't-"

"You want it, you have to earn it," Gustavo interrupted. His body shimmered gold and he convulsed violently, causing her to wince. "Come on, you know my favorite."

Imelda sighed and closed her eyes, thinking this over. Not only did they need that violin, but Gustavo was literally dying; moving on to places unknown. The least she could do was honor his last request. She opened her eyes, smiling sadly. "Yes, I do." With that, she began to play.

Well, everyone knows Juanita,  
Her eyes each a different color

Imelda hesitated a bit, noticing that Rosa was watching intently. Rosa on the other hand couldn't take her eyes off the woman. She played so beautifully! And her voice must have been the voice of an angel's. For someone who claimed to hate musicians, she sure was a darn good one.

Her teeth stick out and her chin goes in  
And her... knuckles, they drag on the floor

"Those aren't the words!" protested Gustavo.

Imelda nodded towards the girl. "I refuse to say the true lyrics in front of a child," she insisted before she began to sing again.

Her hair is like a briar,  
She stands in a bow-legged stance  
And if I weren't so ugly,  
She'd possibly give me a chance

As Imelda finished Gustavo gave her a bittersweet smile, sighing blissfully. "Brings back memories," he muttered. "Gracias, mi amiga." His body then faded completely, leaving nothing behind but them and all the junk in his house.

Imelda sighed sadly, lifting the man's untouched drink to her lips. She walked right past Rosa who was all but confused. "Wait, what happened to him?" she asked.

"He's been forgotten," was the woman's solemn reply. "That's what happens when no one in the Land of the Living remembers you. You cease to exist in this world as well. We call it the final death."

"But... where has he gone?"

"No one knows the answer to that, chiquita."

"W-What about when I go back?" questioned Rosa. "I've met him, just now. When I go back, won't-"

"No," answered Imelda curtly. "That's not how it works. It has to be someone who knew us when we were alive. Only they can pass down our stories. If that doesn't happen, we're forgotten. There's no one left to pass down Gustavo's stories in the living world."

Imelda took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Gustavo had been friendly to her from the day he got there, trying so hard to be her friend. No matter how many time she had rebuffed him, he had never stopped trying. It had taken her nearly two years to open up to him fully. He had been like a brother to her and now he was gone.

But this was no time for tears. They still had things to do. So, picking herself back up, Imelda turned to face Rosa. "Come, chiquita," she urged the young girl. "you've a contest to win."

Rosa said nothing, following the older woman. Yet try as she might, she couldn't get thoughts of the final death out of her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I'm doing well with keeping Hector and Imelda's personalities separate. And yes, I know I switched Chicharron and Gustavo. Don't worry, I did that on purpose. Only because Gustavo played the violin in the movie and I just felt like it, okay? Don't question it. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all wouldn't believe how much of a pain this was. The FF server was down for hours today, so I had to type this chapter Google Docs. Let me tell you that it's the most annoying thing ever.
> 
> For you, my wonderful AO3 readers, I must apologize. I have no friggin idea how to do italics, bold, underline, or alignments on this damn site. FF has that built in, but this site doesn't transfer my font or whatever. But y'all have seen the movie. I'm sure you can figure it out.

Rosa and Imelda decided to take the trolley back into town since they were pressed for time. Imelda happened to have just enough money to get them some spots. Imelda sat on the railing- making sure to keep her legs crossed- while Rosa leaned against it.

“You said that you hated musicians,” Rosa spoke after a few minutes. She couldn’t seem to get the image of Imelda singing and playing out of her head. “But you are one. How does that work?”

Imelda smiled lightly. “Earlina and I were close for a reason, chiquita,” she responded. “We played together when we were girls in the orphanage.” Her smile grew smug. “I’m the one who taught her how to play.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Back away from the ledge, chiquita. You could fall.”

Rosa rolled her eyes in disbelief, but did as she was told. “No manches.” While it made sense that they would have played together, De Paula’s movies and interviews had explained that she had taught herself how to play violin. “Earlina De Paula is the greatest musician of all time, she taught herself everything.”

Imelda chortled. “Please, that woman could hardly play a chord before I taught her. Her music was mediocre at best.”

She did her best to hide the pain that clenched her metaphorical heart. She was only being forgotten because of De Paula. Because that woman never told anyone she had been the one to write those songs that made her famous. She never thought that her oldest friend would betray her in such a way.

She was dreading confronting her.

Rosa snorted delicately. “I find that hard to believe.” Bright lights caught her eye and she looked down. Below them was a plaza similar to Mariachi Plaza in Santa Cecilia; it even had the same statue of De Paula. “Wow...”

“Welcome to the Plaza De Paula,” announced Imelda, though her tone was melancholy. Everyone kissed the ground De Paula walked on, but no one knew that she was really a talentless show-off. She handed the girl next to her the violin. “Come, Rosa.”

Rosa took the instrument in her hands and followed Imelda closely. This was it. She had to give her all. Not only did she need this to get home, she also had to put Imelda’s photo up. She didn’t want the woman to experience the final death. She didn’t deserve it.

The plaza was bustling with people. Vendors were everywhere, selling t-shirts and bobbleheads of De Paula. Alebrijes were everywhere and the lights were bright and colorful. There were even fireworks and sparklers.

Imelda and Rosa approached the stage where dozens of people were gathered. Rosa glanced down at the name Imelda had put for her on the signup sheet. “De Paulita?” she questioned.

“Well, since you’re so proud of your ancestry, I figured you would appreciate it,” came the dry retort.

They waited backstage and Imelda viewed the other competitors with smug satisfaction. They were downright terrible. If Rosa was halfway decent, they’d have the competition in the bag. “So, what song are you going to play?” she asked the girl.

Rosa gave a thoughtful hum. “I was thinking Remember Me...”

“No,” Imelda cut her off, painful memories resurfacing. “For the love of God, please don’t. Any song but that.”

That song had been bastardized in the worst possible way. It had been twisted and glamorized and the meaning to it was all but gone. She had avoided it since it had become popular and she didn’t want to hear it from the girl next to her.

Rosa pouted. “But it’s her most popular song!” she protested, feeling a bit put out. It also happened to be her favorite, too.

Imelda scoffed. “It’s too popular,” she said distastefully. As if to prove her point, they happened to overhear about four contestants practicing the song (badly, in both their opinions). She gave her an ‘I told you so’ look.

Rosa felt a pit form in her stomach, her nerves getting the best of her. She hadn’t even had time to practice! She was going to lose! Determined not to show weakness in front of the older woman, she swallowed her fear. “How about Poco Loco?” she suggested.

Imelda nodded, a grin forming its way onto her face. “That will work,” she approved. Unlike Remember Me, Poco Loco hadn’t been changed too much. It was still perfect.

“De Paulita, you’re on standby!” announced a stagehand, rounding the corner. “Los Chachalacos, you’re up next!” The purple-clad mariachi band passed them and made their way onstage.

Watching the band, Rosa could feel her fear come back tenfold. They were good, really good! How was she going to compete with that? She looked away, taking the violin from Imelda and inspecting it.

Imelda raised an eyebrow as she watched her. She knew that look. “Are you always this nervous before you perform?” she asked. She used to get nervous at that age too.  
Rosa bit her lip. “No lo sé,” she responded. “I’ve never actually gotten the chance to perform before.”

Imelda eyes went wide. “What?” she hissed. She looked around to see if anyone noticed before continuing, “You told me you were a musician!”

“I am!” insisted Rosa quickly. She could see Imelda’s ire growing and was trying her best to quell it. “I’ve been practicing for years! I’ve just never been able to perform in front of an audience. Usually, it’s just my cousin and I.”

“Ay, I knew this was a bad idea!” exclaimed Imelda, burying her face in her hands.”Chiquita, your life depends on you winning this contest and you’ve never done this before!” She held her hands out. “Give me the violin, I’ll do it!”

Rosa immediately pulled back. “No, I need to do this! I need to be able to play this one song!”

“Why?”

She clutched the instrument to her chest. Letting Imelda perform was probably the best course of action, but she just couldn’t stand to do that. “I don’t want to just get De Paula’s blessing, I want to show her that I’m worthy of it. I want to show everyone that I’m a musician, that it’s not just some fantasy. And I can’t just do it for her, I need to do it for myself.” Her eyes narrowed in determination. “I’m going to go up there and I’m going to win.”

Imelda was startled by the fire behind the girl’s eyes. They reminded her of, well, her own. Whenever someone told her that she wouldn’t make it, called her dream of making it a fool’s goal.

She would give them the same look that Rosa was giving her right now.

So, Imelda let out a ragged sigh. “Okay, okay, okay.” She tilted the girl’s chin up. “Escucha, chiquita. When you perform, you have to give it your all, okay? First, shake off those nerves, alright.”

Rosa obliged, wiggling her hands and feet and shaking her head.

“Bien, bien,” said Imelda. “Now, give me a grito.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Imelda huffed impatiently. “Shout, chiquita,” she instructed. “It gets the crowd’s attention, gets them excited.” She let out on of her own as an example, rolling her tongue and shouting to the heavens. “Now, you try.”  
Rosa stared at her strangely. “O-Okay...” She let out a soft meow.

Imelda buried her face in her hands. “We’re finished,” she muttered miserably. Rosa couldn’t help but agree. Los Chachalacos finished up their routine, causing the crowd to cheer wildly.

“De Paulita, you’re up!” declared the stagehand.

Imelda pulled Rosa onto her feet, steering her to the stage. “Rosa,” she said softly. No response. “Chiquita, look at me.” The girl hesitantly met her eyes. “You can do this. Never let anyone tell you that you can’t.” She gave her a gentle push. “Go up there and prove that you are a performer. Take their attention and you keep it. Make them hear you.”

Rosa nodded and climbed onto the stage, gazing down on the crowd of skeleton faces. She felt like she was frozen in her spot, cursed with being unable to move or speak. Her breathing became uneven, her anxiety overtaking her. She knew that her silence was making the crowd impatient.

“Bring back the singing dogs!” one woman jeered.

Rosa glanced at Imelda, who gave her a firm nod. Her eyes spoke for her, You can do this.

Rosa faced the crowd once more, taking a steadying breath. She could do this. Without another moment of hesitation, she let out the yell that she hadn’t even known she could produce, similar to the one Imelda had showed her. This succeeded in getting a few claps from the crowd.

Imelda sighed in relief. So far, so good.

Gaining confidence Rosa began bowing on the violin. She smiled, imagining being back home in her hideout with Miguel. This couldn’t be too different, right? True, it was hard to sing and play the violin at the same time, but if she just focused on the music, she’d be able to do it. Just like she did at home.

So, with a renewed vigor, Rosa began to sing. Albeit, her voice was a bit tentative.

What color is the sky?  
Ay mi amor, ay mi amor  
You tell me that it’s red,  
Ay mi amor, ay mi amor

Where should I put my shoes?  
Ay mi amor, ay mi amor  
You say, ‘Put them on your head!’  
Ay mi amor, ay mi amor

The crowds energy started to rise as the slow claps turned into slight applause. Still, it wasn’t enough. If she wanted to win, she’d have to really hype up the crowd. Rosa began to sing louder, more enthusiastically.

You make me un poco loco,  
Un poquititito loco  
The way you keep me guessing,  
I’m nodding and I’m yes-ing

I’ll count it as a blessing,  
That I’m only un poco loco!

Rosa was beginning to enjoy herself, now. Bending out towards the crowd, adding a few movements here and there. She hadn’t known that performing could be so exhilarating! She absolutely loved it!

Imelda watched from the sidelines, thoroughly impressed with the girl. She had been able to pull herself together well, making the crowd listen to her, see her.

She hated to say it, but Rosa reminded her of herself at that age. With such light, such passion for what she love. Not to mention, fiercely stubborn, especially when it came down to music. This scared her.

Her stubbornness was what had ruined her left. Still, she was content to watch Rosa wrap the crowd around her finger from the sidelines.

That was, until Dante took her tattered dress in her mouth and pulled her onto the stage. She now knew what the girl meant when she referred to him as perro mundo.

But the show must go on. So, Imelda danced around the girl, acting as her hypewoman. She twirled in her tattered dress and tapped her shoeless feet onto the ground, creating the effects of tap shoes. The crowd didn’t seem to mind her homely appearance, instead going wild at her antics.

“Not bad for a dead woman!” teased Rosa, a glint she hadn’t seen before sparkling in her eyes behind those magenta glasses.

Imelda winked. “Not so bad yourself, chiquita!” she retorted.

OoOoOo

The deceased Rivera’s trailed behind Pepita into De Paula Plaza. Héctor scowled at the woman’s name. Without her, things could have been so different. They all could have led completely different lives. But she ruined everything. Nevertheless, De Paula wasn’t their priority. Rosa was.

Pepita sniffed, revealing more footprints. “She’s close,” Héctor announced to his family. “Find her!”

As the family fanned out, he sighed to himself. “Ay, chamaca, you better not have gotten hurt,” he muttered before joining the rest of his family in the search.

OoOoOo

Back on stage, Imelda and Rosa practically had the crowd easting out of their hands. The people were going wild; cheering and applauding the two girls as they performed their hearts out. They both seemed to be having fun, too, letting themselves get lost in the music.

The loco that you make me,  
It is just un poco crazy  
The sense that you’re not making,  
The liberties your taking

Imelda smirked, making a circular motion with her finger. Rosa got the message and spun around.

Leaves my cabeza shaking,  
You are just un poco loco

“¡Todos gritan!” shouted Imelda to the crowd, letting out a yell herself. Rosa and the crowd followed suit, the young girl red in the face, but ultimately happy. Offstage, Dante howled into the night. Rosa and Imelda twirled around the microphone as they finished up the song.

Un poquiti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-to loco!

Imelda wrapped her arm around the girl’s shoulders, embracing her tightly as the crowd went wild. She beamed down at Rosa. “¡Increíble trabajo, chiquita!” she praised. “I knew you could do it! I’m so proud of you!”

Rosa blushed ferociously. No one had ever told her they were proud of her. Sure, they said that she was well-behaved or responsible or smart, but they never expressly told her they were proud. Especially not for her music. It made her heart swell with pride for herself.

This moment was short-lived, however, when she spotted Tío Oscar and Tío Felipe in the crowd. The pit in her stomach from earlier returned when she saw Tía Rosita and Tía Victoria as well. All four of them were talking to people worriedly, like they were looking for something.

Or someone.

She finally caught sight of Papá Julio talking to the hostess and knew she had to get out of there. She grabbed Imelda by the arm, practically dragging her offstage. She couldn’t let her family find her and she definitely couldn’t let Imelda know that she had family here.

“Hey!” protested Imelda, startled at being moved so suddenly. What on Earth was running through this child’s head? “What do you think you’re doing?”

“We have to go!” was all Rosa said, trying to put as much distance between them and the deceased Rivera’s as possible.

“Chiquita, we were about to win!” Imelda was doing her best to stop them when the hostess began to speak.

“Damas y caballeros,” she said, the crowd settling down at her voice. “I have an emergency announcement. Please be on the lookout for a living girl. Answers to the name of Rosa. Earlier tonight, she ran away from her family. They just want to send her back to the Land of the Living.”

Imelda stopped completely, her eyes trained onto the bit of the stage she could see. When the hostess finished her announcement, she turned to Rosa, betrayal flashing in her eyes. “You told me that you didn’t have any family here besides De Paula,” she recalled slowly, her tone taking a dangerous edge. She yanked her arm away. “You told me that she was the only one who could send you home.”

Rosa did her best not to feel like a child being scolded by their mother. “I… I may have a few other relatives here,” she admitted. “But-”

“You could have been home already!” thundered Imelda. “You could have put my photo up!”

“But my family hates music!” Rosa finished, trying to get Imelda to see her point. The pit in her stomach got worse as she was reminded of her arguments with both her father and Papá Héctor separately. “They were going to make me give it up! I need the blessing of a musician!”

Imelda scowled. “You lied to me,” she accused.

Rosa felt her anger well up inside her. “You did too!” she shot back. “You shouldn’t be pointing fingers at anyone!”

“Take one good, long look at me,” hissed Imelda. “I’m falling apart. My bones are yellow. I’m being forgotten, Rosa. By the way I’m feeling, I probably won’t last the night! I have one chance to cross that bridge and I’m not missing it because you want to live out some… crazy fantasy!”

She was immediately reminded of Tía Gloria’s words from before.

It’s been filling her head with crazy fantasies!

And with Tía Gloria’s words came everyone else’s.

The life of a musician is no life for you or anyone here.

I will not allow it!

There. No instrument, no plaza, no music.

“It’s not a crazy fantasy!” argued Rosa. She felt her stomach churn with her own betrayal. Imelda was just like everyone else in her life! Always trying to hold her back, never understanding her. Always insisting that they knew what was best for her. Well, fine! She didn’t need Imelda, she didn’t need anyone!

Imelda grabbed her arm. “I’m taking you to your family,” she decided.

Rosa yanked her arm back. “Don’t touch me!” she shouted. Maybe she was being a brat, but at this point she didn’t care. Imelda was trying to keep her from doing what she loved and she couldn’t allow that.

Imelda held on. “You’ll appreciate this someday.”

Rosa finally broke free of her grasp. “You’re just like everyone else!” she seethed. She could feel a lump in her throat, but swallowed it back, refusing to cry in front of her. “You don’t care about me, you just think you know what’s best for me! You don’t care about anyone but yourself!” She took out the picture the woman had given her and flung it at her. “Keep your stupid photo! Stay away from me!” With that, she stomped off.

Alarmed, Imelda raced after her photo. She couldn’t lose that! It was her ticket to seeing her again! She need that! Once she finally caught the photo, she sighed in relief, but realized what she had just done. “Chiquita?” she called, looking around. She wasn’t there.

“Rosa?” she tried again, weaving her way through the crowd. Oh, what had she done? They were both running out of time and the girl didn’t know her way around, she could get hurt. “Rosa, please come back! I’m sorry!”

But she was gone. And Imelda was alone once more.

OoOoOo

Rosa, her face set in a frown, looked around until she finally spotted the tower that Frida Kahlo had pointed out to her. It was hard to miss with all the lights and because of how tall it was. She could get there. She didn’t need anyone’s help. Determined, she set off towards it.

She heard a familiar bark behind her. “Dante, cállate!” she hissed. She was not in the mood for the dog’s antics on a good day, but now she might end up doing something she’d regret later. Besides, with the barking he was doing, he was going to attract attention.

Dante didn’t stop, grabbing onto her pant leg with his teeth. “No!” she shouted. “Dante, stop it! She’s not going to help me!” She broke free, continuing to walk forward.

The dog gripped Miguel’s hoodie sleeve, pulling hard. She tried to pull it back. “Knock it off, you stupid dog! Leave me alone!” She finally got her sleeve back, glaring daggers at the animal. “You are not a spirit guide! You’re just a stupid dog, just like you’ve always been! Now, get out of here!”

Dante whined before lowering his leg and trotting off. She might have felt bad if she wasn’t so utterly frustrarted.

Unfortunately, Dante had pulled off enough of her sleeve to expose her right arm, both arms were almost all skeleton. A couple passing by had seen. “It’s her!” exclaimed the man.

Suddenly, it felt like all eyes were on her.

“It’s that living girl!”

“I heard about her. Look!”

“She’s alive!”

Rosa, in her panic, noticed someone bring her to a policewoman’s attention. Great. Just great. Without another thought, she dashed away. She crossed a railroad track just before a train went by and slid down another pipe and onto lower ground. She grinned, thinking she was home free, before a cat-based alebrije landed in front of her. “Ah!”

“Enough, chamaca!” exclaimed Papá Héctor from atop the great beast. “This is getting ridiculous! I’m giving you my blessing and you’re going home!”

Rosa glared up at him before running away once more. “I don’t want you stupid blessing!” she snapped, making her way up a narrow staircase, somewhere her great-great grandfather couldn’t corner her with his alebrije.

“Rosa, you come back here this instant!” shouted Papá Héctor, jumping off Pepita and following her. As much as he loved his great-great granddaughter- his only great-great granddaughter for the moment- she was trying his patience. Couldn’t she see that he was only doing what was best for her?

“Rosa!”

Rosa ignored her and kept running. They weren’t taking the only thing she loved from her. She wasn’t letting anything stand in her way. Not Papá, not Abuelita, not Imelda, and not Papá Héctor.

She finally came to a locked gate and cursed. Dead end. But maybe… She sure was tiny enough. Without hesitation, she began to slip though, the only thing holding her back was the violin strapped to her back (they didn’t usually have straps, but Imelda had figured that it would be annoying to carry it around without a case, so they had strapped it to her).

“Dios, chamaca, I’m trying to save your life!” exclaimed Papá Héctor. “Why do you insist on running away from me?”

Rosa, who had finally managed to slip her violin through the gate, scoffed at that. “Save my life?” she repeated. “You’re ruining it!”

Papá Héctor’s eyes went wide as he walked up to the gate. “What?”

Rosa stopped, turning around to face him fully. “I love music,” she declared slowly. “I’ve loved it for years. It’s my escape. It makes me happy and it’s something I’m really good at.” She rolled her eyes. “But you don’t care, do you? You want to take it away because of something that happened years ago!” Her eyes narrowed. “You’ll never understand.“ She turned and was going to run again, when something stopped her.

Y aunque la vida me cuesta llorona  
No dejare de quererte

 

Papá Héctor’s voice was smooth and soft, though it was a bit strained, probably due to lack of practice. Rosa slowly turned around once more. “I… I thought you hated music,” she said.

Papá Héctor smiled wistfully. “I used to love music once, chamaca,” he told her. “I know how you feel, mija. I remember it well. There was once a time when my wife would play and I would sing and nothing else seemed to matter.”

The tension left Rosa’s body as she finally listened to her great-great grandfather for the first time. She had never heard him like this, so honest and relatable, It was a little strange to be honest.

His expression dropped. “But then we had Coco and suddenly, there was something else in my life. Something that meant more to me than music. I wanted to put down roots and raise my daughter, she wanted to travel and play for the world.” He sighed. “In the end, we both made sacrifices to get what we wanted.” He looked at her, his brown eyes boring into hers. “Now, you have a choice to make, chamaca. What will it be?”

Rosa looked at her great-great grandfather, torn. “But why do I have to choose?” she demanded. “Why does there have to be a decision. Just because I like music, doesn’t mean I won’t always love my family. Why do I have to pick sides? Why can’t you just be on my side? That’s what family is for, isn’t it? To support you?”

Papá Héctor seemed to be taken back by that.

Tears welled in her eyes, but Rosa forced them back. She didn’t cry in front of Imelda and she wasn’t going to cry in front of Papá Héctor. “But you never will,” she finished before turning and running away once more.

Héctor was left staring at her retreating form, mulling over what she had said to him. For the first time since the girl arrived, he questioned himself.

Was he doing the right thing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally done! I'm actually really proud of this chapter. Not only is it my longest one, I just really like how I handled the characters in comparison to the others. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi people! Here's the next chapter. I hope you like it!

Rosa stood in line for entrance to the party. She knew it was probably not going to work since she didn't have an invitation and had run away before knowing if she won the contest, but she had to try. She couldn't go back to Papá Héctor and she wasn't going to crawl back to Imelda. They would both try to force her to give up music and she didn't want that.

She didn't just like music, she lived it. There wasn't a moment of any day when music wasn't on her mind. While she did feel bad about taking Papá Héctor's photo from the ofrenda and abandoning Imelda when she was so close to being forgotten, she couldn't change it, not could she go back. She had to move forward and she was running out of time.

Once she was next in line, the bouncer glared down at her suspiciously. "Invitation?" he asked gruffly.

Rosa gave him her best innocent smile, hoping it would get him to soften up like it did her papá. "I know it might be hard to believe, but I'm Earlina's great-great granddaughter," she answered, her voice confident and unwavering. "She would want me in there."

The bouncer grunted in disbelief. "I'll give it to you, kid, that's one I haven't heard before. But if you don't have an invitation, I can't let you in." He jerked his head to the side. "Beat it."

Rosa huffed in annoyance before retreating to the back of the line once more. So much for that idea. How was she going to get in now? If only she had won that stupid competition... Wait.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she caught sight of the band that had gone before her- Los Chachalacos- stepping off their bus. Grinning, Rosa made her way over to them. "Disculpen, señores," she said once she was near them.

"Hey guys, it's poco loca!" noticed the euphonium player.

A woman crouched down to her level. "You were on fire tonight!" she praised, giving her a kind smile.

Rosa blushed under her face paint at the attention. "¡Gracias a ti también!" she replied. "But, musician to musicians, can I ask you a favor?"

OoOoOo

Los Chachalacos stepped up to the bouncer, proudly showing their invitation. "Oh, the competition winners!" realized the bouncer, opening the velvet rope for them. "Congratulations, chicos." They stepped forward- nervous smiles on their faces- and made it onto De Paula's elevator that took guests to the top floor of her large tower.

When they were sure the coast was clear, the band members stepped away from Rosa, who had been given a purple Los Chachalacos coat. She took it off and handed it to them. "Thank you so much!" They talked to each other for a while and she found herself enjoying the company. Talking with other musicians for once felt good.

When they finally got to the top, everyone filed out and Rosa stared at the large, golden building in awe. "Whoa..."

"Enjoy the party, little músico!" called one of them behind her.

"¡Gracias!" Rosa called over her shoulder before running forward. She sprinted up the stone steps, trying to contain her excitement. There were alebrijes, fire-breathers, and all sorts of other attractions and she was only outside! "Look, it's Earlina!" gawked one woman.

And that was when Rosa saw her.

She was at the entrance of the building, dressed in an all white mariachi dress, not unlike the one in Papá Héctor's picture. She couldn't see the woman's face, but her dark, long hair spilled out down her back. Her stomach bubbled with anxiety as she ran to catch her. "Señora De Paula!" she shouted, trying to weave her way through the crowd. She tried not to shove, but ended up nudging a few people out of her way as she raced to catch up to her idol. "Señora De Paula!"

It was useless. Her voice was being drowned out by the music as she finally entered the building. It was darker inside and she could see a few of De Paula's movies playing. When you see an opportunity, you have to take it, implored the De Paula on the screen. Let nothing stand in your way.

Rosa marveled at her surroundings. The lights were brights and colorful and there was even a violin-shaped pool with synchronized swimmers. But there was also a thick crowd. No way she could get to De Paula with all these people in her way. Her eyes traveled to the top of the staircase and she smirked. "That could work."

The dialogue that came before The World Es Mi Familia came on. Perfect.

OoOoOo

Standing at the top of a stone railing, Rosa let out the loudest, most enthusiastic shout she could muster, the sound echoing off the walls. It grabbed most people's attention, the DJ turning down the music he was playing. So many eyes on her made her nervous, but she swallowed it down. She played in the competition and she could play now. So, without any more hesitation, she began to bow.

Señoras y señores,  
Buenas tardes, buenas noches  
Buenas tardes, buenas noches,  
Señoritas y señores

She began to make her way down the railing, being extremely careful not to trip and fall. She couldn't get back home if she broke her neck. People gawked at her, most of them with smiles on their faces.

To be here with you tonight,  
Brings me joy, que alegria  
For this music is my language,  
And the world es mi familia

Once she got to the main floor, people immediately parted. They were making a path for her, straight to De Paula, who still hadn't seemed to notice her.

For this music is my language,  
And the world es mi familia

She was ecstatic by now, singing along with the De Paula in the movie. She approached the real De Paula, who had finally turned around to face her. Her smile couldn't get any wide.

For this music is my language,  
And the world es mi familia!  
For this music lang-

Her performance was cut short by her falling into the pool, instrument and all. She didn't even bother pulling herself up, she was so embarrassed. How could she not have seen that? It was literally twenty feet long! She didn't have time to dwell on this before something grabbed hold of her, yanking her upwards. They broke the surface, Rosa gasping for breath as she was set onto the pavement. She coughed a bit, her eyes adjusting to her surroundings since she didn't have her glasses.

Bent down next to her was none other than Earlina De Paula.

"Are you alright, niña?" she asked, her tone soft with concern. Rosa lifted her face to meet hers and De Paula gasped. "It's you... You're that girl from the Land of the Living!"

Rosa figured that the makeup that Imelda had put on her face had come off due to the pool. "You've heard about me?" she asked quietly.

De Paula smiled at her. "You've been the talk of the town since you got here!" she told her. "Why have you come here tonight?"

Rosa took a deep breath. It wasn't how she had wanted to reveal herself, but she figured now was as good a time as any. "M-My name is Rosa," she said, trying to keep the waver out of her voice. "I-I'm your great-great granddaughter."

De Paula's green eyes went wide. "I have a great-great granddaughter?" she asked quietly. Was that possible...? There had been an incident when she was around twenty-nine, but she had given that baby up. Was this the product of that? Was this girl a descendant of her daughter?

"I-I need your blessing to go back home," Rosa continued. "I've looked up to you since I was little and I want to be a musician just like you. Everyone else in our family hates music and- and they want to stop me from being one. I came here because-" She looked up with her vulnerable brown eyes. "I had hoped that you wouldn't."

De Paula took a few seconds to think this over before a smile made its way onto her face. "My dear, anyone who would try to hide a talent like yours must be out of their mind," she finally spoke, standing up. "I would never stand in your way."

Rosa felt a pang in her heart. Finally, finally. She finally found someone who understood her. She finally found someone who was proud of her talents, who encouraged them. She was so overwhelmed that she threw herself at the woman, wrapping her short arms around her torso. "Thank you," she sobbed. "Thank you so much."

De Paula grinned, hoisting the girl onto her shoulders. "I have a great-great granddaughter!" she announced to the crowd. The crowd erupted into cheers at the revelation. Rosa leaned onto the woman's head, feeling like she was on the top of the world. She felt victorious that the she had found the woman, that she had already convinced her to give her her blessing.

She didn't need Imelda or Papá Héctor.

OoOoOo

Imelda felt utterly ridiculous.

She knew it was necessary, but the unibrow glued above her eyes was itchy. She kept her head up as the bouncer immediately let her through. Everyone really thought she was Frida Kahlo, the idiotas. But she wasn't about to correct them. As she boarded the elevator, she found her metaphorical heart clenching.

She hadn't meant to lose her temper with Rosa, had never meant to act so selfishly. But she needed to cross that bridge. She was running out of time. If she didn't cross soon, she'd never see her again.

There was also the fact that Rosa had so much faith in De Paula. It had been a different case when they were together. She knew the woman well, had grown up with her. She would do anything to get what she wanted, would never let anything stand in her way.

She was worried Rosa would be on the brunt end of that.

OoOoOo

Rosa spent around three hours with De Paula. The woman took every opportunity she got to show her off. She introduced her to everyone. They spent time meeting people, playing horse ball, watching the woman's old movies, and singing. It was like a dream come true for Rosa. Spending the day with her idol and being able to express her love a music freely was all she had ever wanted in life.

Finally, De Paula brought her to the main foyer, which was filled to the brim with food, clothes, and, especially, violins. "All of this comes from my wonderful fans in the Land of the Living," she explained. "They leave me more offerings than I know what to do with!"

Rosa bit her lip. Everything here was so magnificent! But De Paula was alone... She was remembered by the world, sure, but she was all but forgotten by the Rivera family. No one had even known her name before today.

Was this to be her fate should she choose to pursue her musical endeavors.

De Paula must have noticed her nervous expression because she laid a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked gently. "It's not too much, is it? You look a bit overwhelmed."

Rosa shook her head. "No, no," she answered. "This is all fantastic!" Her voice wavered a bit at the end.

"But...?" prompted De Paula.

Rosa sighed. "You have everything that most people dream of having," she responded. "Me included. I've admired you my whole life. You're the woman who made it! You know? But did you ever regret it? Choosing music over everything else?"

De Paula crouched down to her level, thinking her words over. "I won't lie, it was tough," she admitted. "Especially at first. I left a lot of people behind. My friends, my-"

"Your family?" guessed Rosa.

The musician nodded, giving her a sad smile. "Sí," she answered. "But everything I did got me where I am. If given the chance, I would not have changed anything. You know my saying, right?"

"Let nothing stand in your way?"

"Sí, and that includes family," sauid De Paula. "I know it's difficult, but you can't ignore your calling." She beamed at the girl. "And your calling, my great-great granddaughter, is music!" She stood up, strolling over the the large window, Rosa following behind her. "You and I, Rosa, we are special. So special, in fact, that we can't belong to one family. It is impossible. The world is our family. We are artists, they need to see what we can do."

Rosa nodded in understanding. "That makes sense." Though, inside she was saddened. It sounded as if her great-great grandmother was telling her the same as everyone else, that she would have to choose between music and family. She didn't want to have to do that. Why couldn't he have both?

She was brought out of her thoughts by De Paula nudging her excitedly. "Mira, mira, the fireworks have begun!" she exclaimed, gesturing to the colorful explosives going off in the sky.

OoOoOo

"Soon, the party will move across town for my Shining Sunrise Celebration," explained De Paula as they strolled through the grand halls. She gasped as a brilliant idea formed in her head. "Rosa, you must come to the show! You could be my guest of honor! Just think, we could blow the crowd away! We could perform a duet together!"

As if this night couldn't get any better for Rosa. "Really?" she asked. "You mean it?"

De Paula nodded enthusiastically. "Of course, my darling girl!" she exclaimed.

Rosa was about to accept right away, when she caught sight of her hands. "Shoot," she hissed under her breath, looking up apologetically at the older woman. "I can't stay that long. The clerk told me that I have to get my blessing before sunrise, or I'll be stuck here forever." She lifted her shirt slightly to emphasize her point.

De Paula examined the skin that was quickly being replaced by a spine and rib bones. "Ay caramba," she muttered. "I really do have to send you home. Don't want to make you a permanent guest, do we?"

Rosa nodded. "Sí."

De Paula plucked a marigold petal off the nearest bouquet. "It has been my greatest pleasure," she stated, walking towards the girl. "I'm sorry that you have to leave, Rosa, but I do hope to see you soon." She chuckled nervously. "Well, not too soon, I hope."

"Let's hope not," added Rosa.

De Paula chuckled again, kneeling down in front of her. "Rosa, I give you my bless-"

"We made a deal, chiquita."

Both turned to see a shadow standing in the distance. "Who are you?" asked De Paula. "How did you get in here? Do I have to call security?" The figure stepped into the light. "Oh, Frida! I thought you couldn't make it?"

'Frida' rolled her eyes, ripping off her unibrow and removing her dress to reveal a familiar tattered, purple one underneath. One that Rosa knew well. "Idiota, you really thought I was Frida?" She turned her attention towards the thirteen-year-old. "We agreed that you'd take my photo back. Are you going back on your word?"

De Paula put her hand on Rosa's shoulder. "Do you know this woman?" she asked warily as Imelda came closer.

"I met her tonight," admitted Rosa. "She said that she knew you and could get me to you."

De Paula's eyes widened in realization. "I-Imelda?" she asked tentatively, not quite recognizing her old friend.

Imelda ignored her, kneeling down in front of Rosa and holding out her photo. "Please, Rosa," she begged. "Please, put my photo up when you go home. I need to cross that bridge."

Rosa was about to take the picture, when De Paula intervened. "Mi amiga," she said. "You are being forgotten."

Imelda's gaze hardened as she sprung up, fists clenched at her sides. "And who is to blame for that?" she snapped. She could feel the anger welling up inside her, not even trying to tamp it down. She was beyond furious with this woman.

"Imelda, please..." tried De Paula.

"Those were my songs!" fumed Imelda. "When I died, you took them and didn't even bother to give credit! They made you famous while I was left to rot here in the afterlife by myself!"

Rosa blinked. "What?" she muttered to herself. Now that she thought about it, Imelda did mention that she had taught De Paula everything she knew before. Was she telling the truth?

"If I'm being forgotten, it's because you were too much of a coward to admit that I wrote those songs!" finished Imelda.

Rosa's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "That's insane," she cut in. "De Paula wrote all her own songs, she had the original sheet music and everything."

Imelda put her hands on her hips. "Tell her," she snapped at De Paula. "Tell her, Earlina, or I will."

"Imelda," pleaded De Paula. "Please, I never meant to take credit. We were an amazing duo, but you died. I sang your songs because I wanted to feel close to you. I wanted to keep a part of you with me."

Imelda practically had fire in her eyes. "And you couldn't write back to my husband and tell him what happened?" she hissed. "He hates me now. He never lets me get close to him or his family because he thinks I abandoned them!"

"You really did play together," Rosa muttered to herself. Something was wrong here, but for the life of her, she couldn't put the pieces together.

Imelda took a deep breath to calm herself. "Lucky for you, I didn't come here to chew you out," she said. "I'm giving you an opportunity to redeem yourself. You have a chance to make things right. Miguel can put my photo up-"

De Paula's eyes narrowed. "Imelda-"

"And I can cross over," continued Imelda. "I can see my bebita." Her voice was lower now. Softer. "Earlina, do you remember the night I left?"

De Paula was facing away from them now, making it impossible for either of them to tell what was running through her head. "That was a long time ago."

Imelda went on. "We drank together. And you told me, you promised me, that you would do anything and everything within your power for your amiga. And this, my friend, is well within your power."

Something came together in Rosa's head, the only thing that was making sense at the moment. "Wait, she told you what?" Her eyes searched the screen showing De Paula's movie, and suddenly there was a cold hand clenching her stomach. "That's the same exact line from the movie..."

"Rosa, what in the world are you talking about?" asked Imelda incredulously. "This is real life, not some silly movie!"

Rosa pointed to the screen. "Watch," she ordered. Her tone was the most serious Imelda had ever heard it, so she did as she was told, turning her attention towards the screen.

Two women- one De Paula and the other someone Imelda didn't recognize stood across from each other. This calls for a toast, said the woman. To our friendship. I would do anything and everything within my power for you, mi amiga.

"But in the movie, the drink is poisoned," whispered Rosa in horror as she began to put the pieces together. She felt like she was going to throw up...

Imelda was thinking the same thing, apparently, because her eyes flashed with something she couldn't identify. "That night, Earlina," she recalled. "The night I tried to leave. We had been traveling for months and I had been homesick. So, I packed up my songs and tried to leave."

December 1921

"You're giving up?" demanded Earlina as Imelda packed. "Now of all times? Imelda, you can't do this! We're so close to fulfilling our dream!"

Imelda shook her head. "This was your dream," she said, closing her suitcase and picking it up. Something seemed off about her friend, she just didn't know what. "I just wanted to provide for my family, but we aren't getting anywhere like this. We are barely making enough money to feed ourselves! It's best that I go home. I'm sure you'll do just fine without me."

Earlina grabbed her case. "I can't do this without your songs, Imelda!" she exclaimed.

Imelda yanked her suitcase back, eye hardening. "I'm going home, Earlina," she insisted. "You can hate me if you want, but my family needs me more than you do." She turned and opened the door.

"Oh, I could never hate you," said Earlina, her voice much calmer. "If there truly is no changing your mind, allow me to send you off with a toast." She poured them both glasses of tequila. "To our friendship. I would do anything and everything within my power for you, mi amiga. Salud!"

Imelda turned and smiled softly. "Gracias," she said, taking the glass and drinking from it. She failed to notice the evil glint in Earlina's narrowed eyes.

"You walked me to the train station," continued Imelda in the current time, her eyes still glazed over. "But my stomach started to hurt. I figured that it must have been something I ate. Or something I drank. The next time I woke up, I was dead." She seemed to snap out of her trance, her eyes narrowed dangerously. "You poisoned me."

"Y-You're mixing up your facts," De Paula insisted. "It was a long time ago and you must be confused by the movie-"

"For ninety six years, I was convinced that it was karma for leaving my family at all," Imelda went on as if she hadn't heard her. "It never occurred to me that you would..." She suddenly released a vengeful screech, spinning around and lunging at her old friend. "How could you do this to me?! You were my best friend! We grew up together, I trusted you!"

"Imelda!" exclaimed Rosa in alarm, though she was ignored.

She had never felt so angry before. It was as if twenty-one years of friendship was gone in a single night as she flung punches at the woman under her. She didn't care that Rosa was watching or that they were already dead. In that moment, Imelda could have killed Earlina De Paula.

"Security, security!" called Earlina, trying to fend her off. However, Imelda had always been the stronger between the two and had managed to get a few good hits in.

Unfortunately, security came and ripped Imelda off the violinist. That didn't stop her from trying to break free. "You stole everything from me!" she shriked as they dragged her away. "You serpiente! I will never forgive you for this!"

"Have her taken care of," ordered De Paula as she hoisted herself up. "She's not well."

Imelda screams turned into sobs as she was taken out of the room. "I just wanted to go back to my family!" was the last thing she shouted.

De Paula was gasping for air. "Sorry for that," she said to Rosa, grabbing the girl's attention. "Where were we?"

Idol or not, the last thing Rosa wanted to do was spend another minute in the same room as Earlina De Paula. Still, this was the only accessible person who could get her home. So, swallowing her fear, she answered, "You were going to give me your blessing to go home." She did her best to keep her face neutral, trying to hide how afraid she was.

De Paula nodded. "Yes, of course." She took the marigold petal from her pocket, staring at in contemplatively. "Rosa, you know that my reputation is very, very important, right? I wouldn't want you to think-"

"That your murdered Imelda for her songs?" finished Rosa, trying to keep the bite out of her voice. She couldn't make a wrong move here. Who knew what De Paula would do to her?

Earlina chuckled, though this time it sounded malicious and sinister as opposed to nervous and light. "Of course, you don't think that." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Do you?"

"No," answered Rosa a little too quickly. "Of course not. You're Earlina De Paula. You w-wouldn't have done that." She thought she was going to be sick. The woman she had worshiped her entire life, the woman who had inspired her to play music was nothing but a liar, thief, and murderer.

De Paula stared at her with a strange look, pocketing Imelda's photo and slipping it into her pocket.

"Mamá Earlina?" asked Rosa, the churning in her stomach getting harder and harder to ignore. "C-Can I have my blessing now?"

De Paula crumpled the marigold petal without hesitation. "Security?" she called and they burst through the door. "Take care of my darling granddaughter. She will be staying a little longer than planned."

The guards roughly grabbed her arms. "What?" exclaimed Rosa in outrage. It was as if her entire would was crumbling down around her as her idol attempted to have her killed. "H-How can you do this to me? We're family! And I'm a kid! You would murder a child?"

De Paula scoffed. "And Imelda was my best friend," she pointed out. "And you're not that much of a kid. What are you? Fourteen?" She stood on the stairs, smirking. "Fame and glory has a cost, Rosa. Remember, let nothing stand in your way."

The phrase that Rosa had practically lived by her entire life suddenly felt like a curse as she was dragged away by security.

OoOoOo

"Let go of me!" screeched Rosa as security lugged her to a sinkhole outside the building. They flung her inside it and she screamed the whole way down. It must have been a fifty foot drop! Luckily, there was water to break her fall. Unluckily, she couldn't swim. She plunged into the water and she thought her entire life flashed before her eyes.

"Help!" she yelled, trying to keep her head above water and kicking ferociously. "Someone, please help me!" Her head went over and she found that she couldn't break the surface.

Suddenly, two strong arms wrapped around her, yanking her upwards. She gasped for air as she broke the surface. She was panting as she was set onto the small island, coughing up water.

"Are you alright, chiquita?" asked a gentle voice.

Rosa forced her eyes open to meet Imelda's violet ones. "Imelda!" she shouted, immediately flinging herself into the woman's arms. "Oh, Imelda, I'm so sorry! I should have listened to you! I should have just gone back to my family!"

Imelda embraced her tightly, practically clinging to the girl. "Shh, chiquita," she soothed. "Shh, it's alright."

"I-I told them I hated them!" sobbed Rosa. "I-I told them that I didn't care if I was on the ofrenda! It's all my fault we're down here! I'm such an idiot!"

Imelda stroked her hair. "Shh, it's alright," she assured her. "Everything is going to be alright." As she said this, however, her body convulsed violently and shimmered gold.

"Imelda!" exclaimed Rosa in concern. She knelt down next to her. "Imelda, what's wrong? What's happening?"

Imelda looked up sadly. "She's forgetting me," she answered.

"W-Who is?" Rosa asked softly.

Imelda looked as if she was going to cry. "My daughter," she answered.

Rosa's eyes went wide in realization. "Is she... the reason you want to cross over so bad?" she asked.

Imelda nodded, looking at her helplessly. "I just wanted to see her one last time," she admitted. "I was a fool for leaving Santa Cecilia with that woman. If anything, I wish I could tell her that I was sorry. Sorry that I left. Sorry that I wasn't the mother she deserved. I wish that I could tell her that I didn't abandon her. That I was trying to come home. That I loved her more than anything in the world." She lowered her head. "My Coco..."

Rosa perked up at that, the pieces coming together in her head. "Coco?" she repeated. She took out the picture of Mamá Coco and Pápa Héctor- which had somehow come out unscathed- from her pocket, wordlessly handing it to the woman.

Imelda took it, her eyes going wide at seeing the faces of her husband and daughter. "Where... Where on earth did you get this?" she asked.

Rosa pointed to her great grandmother. "That's my Mamá Coco," she said before pointing to her great-great grandfather. "and that's my Pápa Héctor." She pointed to the faceless woman who she had assumed was De Paula. "Is... Is that you?"

Imelda looked up at Rosa. "The two of us," she muttered. "We're..." Her voice trailed off as she found herself unable to finish her sentence.

"Family," Rosa finished for her. She felt a wave of relief wash over her. Imelda had been so caring and kind to her from the beginning. Being descended from her was much better than being descended by a backstabbing murdered.

Imelda gave her a weak smile before running her thumb over her daughter's face. "I had always hoped that I'd see my darling baby again. That she would miss me and put up my photo someday." She sighed. "But she never did. You want to know what hurts the most? If I was never able to cross the bridge and see her, at least I'd be able to see her when she died. But she's the last person who remembers me."

Rosa caught on. "Once she dies, you disappear," she stated, her heart breaking. "Y-You'll never get to see her again."

Imelda gave her a sad smile. "That song that made De Paula famous? I wrote it for Coco. It was our special song, we'd sing it at the same time every night." She began to sing the song softly, as it should have been heard. It was a lullaby, not some glamorized love song. Memories of her four year old daughter began to fill her head as she sang.

Remember me,  
Though I have to say goodbye  
Remember me,  
Don't let it make you cry

For even if I'm far away,  
I hold you in my heart  
I sing a secret song to you,  
Each night we are apart

Remember me,  
Though our time together's thin  
Remember me,  
Each time you hear a violin

Know that I'm with you,  
The only way that I can be  
Until you're in my arms again,  
Remember me

Rosa was suddenly filled with white hot fury. "That... That fake!" she yelled, startling Imelda. "She stole your violin, your songs, and your life! You should be the one the world remembers, not De Paula!"

"I wrote that song for Coco," interrupted Imelda softly. "Not the world. I never intended to perform that song. Ever. It was just for us." She lowered her head. "I bet I'm a sorry excuse for a great-great grandmother, huh?"

"No!" exclaimed Rosa loudly. "Please, don't say that! My whole life, I've wondered why I was so different, where my love of music came from!" She smiled gently. "Now I know it comes from you! I'd much rather be related to you than De Paula! I'm proud to be your family!" She didn't care hoe ridiculous it was, Rosa stood up and looked to the heavens. "You hear that? I'm proud to be her family!"

Imelda laughed. "You know what, chiquita?" She stood up, tall and proud. "I'm proud to have a wonderful great-great granddaughter like you." They embraced each other tightly.

Rosa pulled away, however, when she heard a familiar barking. "D-Dante?" she asked. Indeed, it was Dante who peeked over the edge. "Dante!" She turned to Imelda. "It's Dante!"

Pepita touched onto the ground, giving a mighty roar as she landed. Pápa Héctor leaned over, chuckling with relief that he had been able to find his great-great granddaughter. "Oh, chamaca, I'm so glad you're safe!"

His expression hardened, however, when he saw his wife. "Imelda..."

Imelda, for the first time since Rosa met her, looked a bit nervous. "H-Hola, Héctor," she greeted tentatively.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't give me that look. I wanted to end with the cave scene. That's why this chapter is such a monster. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I know it took longer than my other chapters, but the long weekend is over, so I haven't had as much time. That being said, please review!

Rosa sighed in relief as the four of them rode Pepita out of the cavern- herself in between the two adults who refused to make eye contact with one another. She had really thought she was done for back there. She was glad Papá Héctor had shown up when he did. Otherwise, she would have been made a permanent resident in the Land of the Dead and Imelda... she would have ceased to exist. The latter was still going to happen unless they did something about.

Rosa, however, knew better than to bring it up to her great-great grandfather now and resigned herself to scratching Dante behind his ears. "Oh, Dante, I should have listened to you!" she gushed. She had a new appreciation for the Xolo dog. "You knew Imelda was my great-great grandmother all along, didn't you? That's why you led me to her."

She felt guilty that she had shooed him away after her fight with Imelda. She also felt terrible about how she had treated him beforehand. While he wasn't the brightest animal around, he was loving and loyal to the bone. Rosa beamed at him. "You really are a spirit guide!"

Dante suddenly froze. Rosa's eyes traveled down to his paws, which were now changing different colors. The bright shades spread from his paws and up his legs until he changed colors completely. Dante tried to chew at the colors, but stopped when he caught sight of his vibrant green nose.

Rose watched in awe. "Dante..." she began slowly. "You look like an alebrije!"

Her suspicions were confirmed when two small wings sprouted onto his back. He barked happily before promptly jumping off Pepita's back. Rosa gasped when he plummeted straight towards the ground. "Dante!" she shouted in alarm. She gripped her hair in frustration. "¡Perro mundo!" If she survived the night, Miguel was going to murder her.

Fortunately, Dante levitated back up behind her, unharmed. She gave a sigh of relief; some things never changed.

OoOoOo

As soon as Pepita touched down, the rest of the deceased Rivera's came rushing towards them. Rosa slid down the giant alebrije, immediately being swept up into a group hug by them. They fussed over her, asking if she was alright and demanding that she tell them what happened. She smiled shyly, assuring her that she was fine, but holding her tongue when it came to what had happened.

She need/ed their help, but she wouldn't get it if she didn't convince Papá Héctor first.

Dante landed ungracefully, sliding across the ground and into her legs. Pepita licked the back of her hair and gently nuzzling her cheek. Papá Héctor wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight to his chest. "Oh, chamaca, I was so worried about you," he confessed. "When, when you ran away from me, I thought I'd never find you again. I thought we'd be to late, I-"

Rosa buried her face into his chest. "I'm alright, Papá Héctor," she assured him softly. "I'm alright."

Papá Héctor caught sight of Imelda and his gaze hardened. "And as for you," he seethed, arm wrapped protectively around Rosa. "Have you not already caused this family enough strife? Enough pain?"

Pain flashed across Imelda's face and it seemed to pierce through Rosa's heart. "Héctor-" she tried.

"I spent decades- an entire lifetime- trying to make up for your absence," interrupted Papá Héctor, his own eyes holding years upon years of unimaginable pain and regret. "Trying to fix what you broke, making sure my family would never feel as helpless as I did when you left. I don't want to see you, Imelda. I didn't need you and life and I don't need you in death."

He gestured to Rosa. "She's with you for ten minutes and she's stuck in a sinkhole!" he fumed.

Rosa quickly got between them. "Papá Héctor, it wasn't because of Imelda that we were in there," she confessed. "It was all my fault. She was trying her best to get me home, but I-I wouldn't listen to her!"

She sighed, looking into her great-great grandfather's eyes. "Imelda was right, family comes first," she stated. "Always. I... I'm ready to accept your blessing. All of it." She glanced at Imelda and nodded reassuringly. "But not before we get her photo from De Paula."

"What-?"

"So that she can see Coco again," finished Rosa. "You say that family's the most important thing. Well, Imelda is family. And she should be on our ofrenda."

"Mija, she abandoned this family," Papá Héctor reminded her, trying to keep his rage at his wife in check in front of his granddaughter.

Rosa shook her head. "No, she loves you both so much," she explained gently. "She tried to go back home to you, but De Paula murdered her and stole her songs." Papá Héctor's eyes widened as he turned to his wife for confirmation.

Imelda nodded. "She speaks the truth."

Papá Héctor's face softened for a moment before twisting into a scowl. "Let's say that I believed that," he began. "I was still left alone to raise a child on my own. I still had to struggle to provide my family on my own."

Imelda hung her head. "Héctor, I-" She stopped, clenching at her heart as her body convulsed once more. The golden shimmer ran through her bones as she collapsed onto the ground.

Rosa immediately rushed to her side. "Imelda!" she exclaimed in worry. Mamá Coco had always had trouble remembering things- Rosa knew this- but now it seemed that she was losing her memory completely, which meant that Imelda would soon be experiencing the final death.

Unless she put the woman's picture up.

Imelda took a shuddering breath. "Coco..." she muttered, struggling to keep herself off the ground. "She... She..."

"She's forgetting you," finished Papá Héctor, hand clamped over his mouth. He would never wish the final death on anyone, least of all the wife that he had so loved and cherished in life.

Rosa helped her stand. "No one's saying you have to forgive her," she promised her great-great grandfather. "That, well, that situation was a whole big mess that I'm not equipped to deal with." She sighed. "But nobody's perfect." She glanced at her feet sheepishly. "I know that more than anyone. And she definitely doesn't deserve to be forgotten."

Papá Héctor seemed to be softening, his eyes shifting from stubborn and hurt to soft and vulnerable. "I spent decades trying to forget you," he admitted to his wife softly. "I spent most of my life trying to get Coco to forget you, but..." He trailed off, guilt bubbling in his core. While Imelda had still left, she had tried to come home. And he, ridden with resentment and bitterness, had forced her out of the family. Had left her of their ofrenda. As much as he was still angry with her, he had known Imelda since they were both children.

The last thing she would do is betray the ones she loved.

"Héctor, this is my fault," Imelda insisted firmly. "I should have never left with Earlina. I should have never left you and Coco. The blame is all mine. I am so profoundly sorry, mi amor."

He met her violet eyes directly. "I don't know if or when I'll ever be able to forgive you completely," he continued. "But no matter what, you don't deserve the final death." Papá Héctor turned to his great-great granddaughter. "Rosa, if we get her photo from De Paula, you will go home? No more music?"

Rosa smiled sadly. "Family is everything," she stated. And she meant it too. If she had learned anything from this, it was that no dream, no ambition was worth giving up the people who loved you. "You have my word, Papá Héctor."

He nodded, pride swelling in his metaphorical chest. "Then I will help you," he swore. "Now, how do we get to that awful woman?"

Rosa smirked. "I think I might know a way..."

OoOoOo

At De Paula's Shining Sunrise Celebration, Frida Kahlo's dance number had begun. The dancers emerged from the papaya and started their routine. In the background, the Rivera's- dressed as the dancers- crept out of the prop in the background. The blended in the darkness, going completely unnoticed by the crowd, which was engrossed into the performance.

"Good luck, muchaha," said Frida as the Rivera's passed her.

Rosa grinned. "Grcaias, Frida!" she called over her shoulder as she sped away with her family.

The Rivera's began to pull off their costumes in the storage room. Rosa winced as she yanked off the glued-on unibrow, but didn't yelp or even utter a single sound. There would be plenty of time for that later. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Papá Héctor struggle with his dress. Imelda looked like she wanted to help him, but seemed to decide against it, tending to her own disguise.

Once the family was finished, everyone huddled up. "Everyone know the plan?" asked Rosa.

"Find Imelda's photo-" started Tía Victoria.

"-give it to Rosa-" continued Papá Julio.

"-send Rosa home," finished Papá Héctor.

"Everyone have your petals?" Imelda asked, looking around the circle. The Rivera's each showed their marigold petals.

The family filed out of the storage room, rushing to achieve their goal. "Now, we just need to find De Paula," said Papá Héctor, not paying attention to where he was going.

"Yes?" said the woman in question, turning around to face him. The other Rivera's quickly hid around the corner, pressing themselves against the wall to hide themselves. "Hey, don't I know you from somewhere?"

Papá Héctor yelped, spinning around to face her. He felt his ire grow at the sight of her. He had never liked the woman, even in their youth. Now, however, he absolutely detested Earlina De Paula. Not only did she kill his wife, she had also left his great-great granddaughter to die.

Despite this, he grew up in the early 1900's! He couldn't hit a woman!

So, Tía Victoria took over for him. She yanked off her boot and whacked the other woman with it. "That's for murdering the love of my grandfather's life!" she seethed. It was a rare show of fiery emotion for the stoic woman.

De Paula flinched back, looking between the two. "Who-?"

Imelda revealed herself. "She's talking about me, you serpiente!" she stated proudly before turning to her husband, blushing. "I'm the love of your life?"

Papá Héctor blushed as well. "I-"

However, he didn't get the chance to finish as Tía Victoria gave the woman another whack. "And that's for leaving my niece to die!" she hissed, her wrath even more prominent then before.

De Paula's eyes went wide. "Niece? I don't-"

Rosa revealed herself. "She's talking about me!" she proclaimed.

De Paula's eyes narrowed at the sight of her. "You! Wait..." She looked between Rosa and Imelda, finally noticing the similarities. She had, after all, grown up with the woman. "You're related to Imelda?"

Rosa ignored this, however, her eyes traveling to the violinist's front pocket. "There!" she exclaimed, pointing. "That's where the picture is!" The other Rivera's appeared behind them, fists clenched and gazes hard.

De Paula stared at them for a moment before taking off in the other direction.

"After her!" ordered Papá Héctor and the family gave chase.

"Security!" called De Paula as she raced past them. "¡Ayuadame!"

Imelda gave Papá Héctor a hopeful smile as they ran. "Love of your life?" she repeated from earlier.

Papá Héctor avoided her eyes. "That was Victoria who said that, not me," he reminded her.

Rosa grinned slyly. "But you didn't deny it," she pointed out. Looking between her great-great grandparents, it was so painfully obvious that they still loved each other dearly. She just hoped that they were able to work it out someday.

That was, if they were able to get this right tonight.

Security charged at them, but Papá Julio, Tío Oscar, and Tío Felipe immediately took action. Papá Julio kicked one in hit bottom and Tío Oscar used his twin's arms to take two down while Tío Felipe headbutted the last one.

Rosa, Imelda, Tía Victoria, and Tía Rosita were stopped by more guards, but Papá Héctor was able to follow De Paula directly. He was able to grab the photo off her and the two wrestled for it. Rosa noticed and tackled De Paula to the ground. Papá Héctor fell back, but held the photo triumphantly. "Rosa, I've got it!" he called to her.

Rosa beamed, but her eyes widened as security charged at her. "¡Ay cielos!" she exclaimed, fleeing from them. She struggled against one of the guard's grip, but luckily Dante came to he rescue, effectively knocking his head off. She spotted a set of stairs and gestured for Tía Victoria, Imelda, and Tía Rosita to follow her up them. "¡Venga!"

OoOoOo

When they finally made it up, Rosa immediately saw Papá Héctor in the center of the stage completely frozen. All eyes were on him as he stood in the spot De Paula would have been standing in. Security was creeping up towards him and he fumbled, bumping into the microphone. "Sing!" Rosa called from the left side of the stage. "Come on, Papá Héctor, sing!"

Papá Héctor looked warily at the guards before taking a deep breath and singing.

Ay de mí, llorona  
Llorona de azul celeste

Both Tía Victoria and Tía Rosita's mouths dropped in shock. Never in their lives had they heard the patriarch utter a note! Rosa looked around before noticing a group of violins hanging around. Quickly, she shoved one into Imelda's arms. "Play," she ordered the older woman, setting up a microphone in front of her.

Imelda looked at the instrument warily. "Chiquita-"

"Papá Héctor's singing out there," Rosa pointed out to her firmly. "You have to meet her halfway."

Imelda looked conflicted for a moment before nodding. "Okay," she agreed. She began to bow as Papá Héctor continued.

Ay de mí, llorona, llorona  
Llorona de azul celeste

Papá Héctor saw the guards creeping up towards him out the corner of his eye and he made a point of walking in the other direction towards the stairs. He walked down them, approaching the bottom stage.

Y aunque la vida me cuesta llorona  
No dejare de quererte

Imelda blushed, her eyes wide in anticipation as she heard the last words. Whether he was just singing the song or saying those words directly to her, she would never know. However, she liked to think that there was some truth behind them.

No dejare de quererte!

Papá Héctor's voice got stronger, his eyes alight like Imelda had seen before she left Santa Cecilia as the music began to pick up and the crowd went wild. In the decades he had been in the Land of the Dead, she had never seen him so happy. He was dancing around the security guards like it was nothing, skillfully avoiding their advances while making it look like it was a dance number.

Me subí al pino más alto, llorona, a ver si te divisaba  
Como el pino era tierno, llorona, al verme llorar, lloraba

Ay, de mí, llorona, llorona de azul celeste

Rosa beamed, gesturing for him to come over to them. He was about to, only for De Paula to grab his arm, pulling him towards her. The two were singing in sync now, though anyone with eyes could tell that Papá Héctor wanted nothing more than to get away.

Ay, de mí, llorona, llorona de azul celeste

Imelda's blood boiled as she watched that lying snake put her hands all over her husband, but Rosa's hand on her shoulder allowed her to remain calm. De Paula twirled the man around, the two of them fighting over the photo the entire time.

Y aunque la vida me cueste, llorona, no dejaré de quererte  
Y aunque la vida me cueste, llorona, no dejaré de quererte  
No dejaré de quererte

At this point, Papá Héctor had stopped singing entirely. "Get your hands off me, you snake!" he fumed. De Paula ignored him, of course, as she snatched the photo from him, belting out high notes as the spotlight shone on them.

No dejaré de quererte  
Ay, ay, ay

Papá Héctor searched for an escape before an idea hit him. It was disgusting, sure, but he needed to get to Rosa and Imelda. So, bracing himself, he licked De Paula's arm. The musician let him go immediately. "Ew!" she shrieked, loosening her grip. Papá Héctor took this opportunity to snatch the photo and flee to the left side of the stage.

As soon as he was withing arm length of Imelda, he took her into his arms and twirled her around. As soon as he realized what he was doing- and his great-great granddaughter's smug face- he set her down. "I-I've missed that," he admitted sheepishly.

Imelda, unable to stop the smile tugging at her lips, averted her eyes. "Age certainly hasn't put a damper on your voice," she commented. Rosa cleared her throat, but could not contain her grin as she held the marigold petal out to them.

Papá Héctor blushed, looking down at her. "Right, chamaca, I know," he assured her, handing her Imelda's picture and taking the petal. He cleared his throat. "Rosa, I give you my blessing." The petal began to glow. "To go home, to put our photos on the Rivera ofrenda, and..." he trailed off, thinking about his next course of actions.

In light of the fact that Imelda did not abandon family for music and the fact that he still absolutely adored it, he didn't think he would be able to strip Rosa of it. Not when music wasn't the real culprit.

Rosa, however, took his silence the wrong way. "Never play music again..." she muttered to herself. A promise was a promise, after all, but it still hurt that she wasn't going to be able to play again. However, it was a small sacrifice to make to save her great-great grandmother. "I know, I know."

Papá Héctor smiled at her. "And to never ever doubt the love your family has for you," he finished. Rosa's eyes were wide, the light of the petal reflecting in her brown irises.

Imelda also smiled at her. "You're finally going home, mija," she stated tenderly.

Rosa was about to take the petal when she was grabbed from behind. "You're not going anywhere!" hisses De Paula.

Imelda cried out and lunged at her, but De Paula shoved her down. Papá Héctor ran to her aid. "Imelda!" he exclaimed in concern.

"Stay back!" snapped De Paula, dragging Rosa to the edge of the roof as the Rivera's approached. "All of you! One more step and I'll drop her, I swear I will!" Dante came in, trying to pull her by her flat, but lost his grip. De Paula flung Rosa across the roof, stripping her of Miguel's hoodie and leaving her in her t-shirt.

"Earlina, don't!" pleaded Imelda, but collapsed at her body convulsed again. Immediately, Papá Héctor was at her sight. "Please, don't hurt her."

De Paula glared at her. "I didn't claw my way to the top just to have this brat ruin it!" she hissed. Tía Rosita discreetly pointed a camera at the woman while Tía Victoria turned it on, showing the afterlife the true Earlina De Paula.

"She's a living child, Earlina," Imelda tried once more. "Please, she has nothing to do with this. This is between us."

De Paula pointed to Rosa. "She is a threat!" she seethed. "Say I let her go back to the Land of the Living, huh? What would happen then? I'll tell you what, she'd put up your photo, keep your memory alive, and tell everyone-"

"Tell everyone what?" challenged Rosa from her place on the ground. If she was going to die, she was going to do it calling out the faker for who she truly was. "The truth? How you murdered Imelda and stole her songs? You're nothing by a lying, murdering coward!"

De Paula approached her slowly. "I am Earlina De Paula, the world's greatest musician," she snapped.

Rosa stood up, looking the woman in her eyes. Not an ounce of fear showed on her face. "That title belongs to Imelda!" she insisted. "You're a fake!"

De Paula grabbed her by her shirt. "I'm the woman who will let nothing stand in her way," she corrected. "No one will stop me, not even a brat like you." Without warning, she flung the girl off the roof.

"No!" screeched Imelda, struggling to pick herself up. If only she weren't so weak, she would have been a better help. She could have prevented this!

The other Rivera's rushed to the edge. "Rosa!" exclaimed Papá Héctor, looking ready to dive after her. It was only with the combined efforts of his brothers that he didn't.

"Lo siento, mi amigia," muttered De Paula as she passed Imelda. "It's nothing personal, but she was becoming a nuisance. She went back onstage, not expecting the onslaught that was about to greet her.

Rosa meanwhile, was free falling through the air. She was screaming at the top of her lungs, hoping and praying that there would be some miracle this time. That someone would come and save her once more. Dante, bless him, tried to catch her by taking her shirt in his teeth, but could barely support himself, let alone both of them.

The two spun around in the air, causing Rosa to lose her grip on her great-great grandmother's photo. "No!" she shrieked. She watched helpless as it fell into the water, gone forever.

To make matters worse, her shirt tore and Dante couldn't catch her again. As she was about to meet her fate, Rosa couldn't help the last regrets that consumed her mind. She hadn't appreciated the life she had. Sure, she loved her family, but spent most of her time away from them with her music. All that time she spent with Imelda and she hadn't figured out they were related. Heck, she never even got to tell her brothers how much she loved them!

Those thoughts were cut short, however, when Pepita swooped in and broke her fall. Her heart was beating against her chest as the alebrije flew them back towards the roof. "Y-You're really something, you know that?" she muttered, burying her head in the beast's fur.

As soon as they touched down onto the rooftop, Rosa was engulfed in another Rivera family hug. She readily welcomed it, willing herself not to cry after her near-death experience. The family was so wrapped up in their tearful reunion that they didn't notice Pepita stalk off to confront De Paula...

Rosa scratched the Xolo dog behind his ears. "You are such a good dog!" she gushed once more.

"Oh, chamaca!" fussed Papá Héctor, bringing her in for a hug. "Never scare me like that again, young lady!"

"Not planning to, Papá Héctor," Rosa muttered into his chest. The sounds of bones hitting the ground grabbed her attention. "Imelda!" she rushed towards the woman. "I'm such an idiot, I lost your picture!"

Imelda gave her a pained smile. "It's alright, mija, I-" She couldn't go on as she shimmered gold once more.

Rosa clutched the woman's shoulders. "Imelda, no!" she nearly sobbed. "No, you have to hang on! We can find the photo! We- we-!"

Papá Héctor was on the other side of his wife, his own expression pained. "Rosa, the sun!" he pointed out to her, voice wavering slightly. "You have to go!"

Rosa shook her head. "No!" she refused. "I can't leave you! Not like this! I promised that you'd get to see Coco again!"

Imelda cupped her face. "Our time is up, mija," she whispered, barely able to keep her eyes open.

"No, she can't forget you!"

Imelda weakly held up a marigold petal. "Just... tell her that I love her," she begged. "Please..."

"No, Imelda, please! I-I-!"

"You have our blessing, Rosa," spoked Imelda softly.

Papá Héctor joined their hands together, both holding the petal out to their great-great granddaughter. "No conditions," he promised. It was obvious the girl wouldn't go unless they made her, so he began to push the petal towards her. "Please, go."

"No!" Rosa nearly shouted. "No, Mamá Imelda, please!"

"Go home," ordered Imelda, though it had lost its usual bite, its usual tone of authority.

"I-I'll fix this!" vowed Rosa. "I won't let Coco forget you! You hear me? I won't-!" She was cut off by her great-great grandparents pushing the petal into her.

She let out a shriek as she was enveloped in a bloom of petals, the world fading around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking one more chapter and than the epilogue. What do you guys think? Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review! Oh, and De Paula touching Hector was as much harassment ad de la Cruz touching Imelda. That is all.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long. I had a bit of writer's block. Please enjoy!

Rosa stirred as her eyes opened slowly, her head feeling like a hammer was pounding against her skull. She was flat on the ground- she noticed- and not in her bed at home. That didn't quite make sense. What had she been doing last night? She remembered fighting with her family, running off, trying to enter the talent show, and then-

She suddenly gasped, jumping to her feet. Memories came flooding back into her head. Going to the Land of the Dead. Trying to undo the curse. Trying to find De Paula. Meeting Imelda…

Oh god, Imelda!

Not even caring about the risk of getting cursed again, Rosa grabbed De Paula's- or rather Imelda's- violin and dashed out of De Paula's tomb. She raced towards her house, praying that she wasn't too late.

Her father caught sight of her. "Rosa?" he asked as she passed him. "Rosa! ¡Detener!" Her aunts, uncle, cousin, and brother all seemed to be calling after her.

Rosa ignored them all, her sights set on one thing. She needed to get to her Mamá Coco. She needed to make sure she didn't forget Imelda! She just hoped she wouldn't be too late.

As she reached the ofrenda room where Mamá Coco's wheelchair almost always was, Rosa was cut off by Abuelita. "Rosa Marigold Rivera, where have you been?!" she demanded, blocking the entrance. "We've all been worried sick! We searched for you all night!"

"Abuelita, please!" begged Rosa, trying to find a way around the older woman. "I need to see Mamá Coco!"

Abuelita's eyes seemed to lock onto Imelda's violin. "What are you doing with that?! Give it to me!" She lunged at the girl.

Rosa quickly dodged her before flinging herself into the ofrenda room and locking the door behind her. "Sorry, Abuelita," she whispered as she heard the harsh bangs on the door and the demands for her to open it. "But I have to do this. I have to save our family."

She turned to her great grandmother, who somehow looked worse than when she had left. "Mamá Coco?" she called hesitantly. "It's me, Rosa."

Mamá Coco didn't respond. Rosa approached her slowly. "Mamá Coco, please, you can't forget her." She took the photo out of her pocket, pointing to the faceless woman. "This is your mamá, remember? Mamá?"

Mamá Coco turned away from her.

Rosa felt tears of frustration well in her eyes. "Mamá Coco, it's your mamá!" she repeated. She gripped her great grandmother's hand. "Please, if you forget her, she can never come back! You'll never see her again!"

Nothing.

Rosa looked around before spotting the violin she had brought in, holding it out to the aged woman. "T-This was her violin," she stuttered out. "S-She used to play it for you when you were a little girl. Please-"

The door suddenly burst open, revealing all the living Rivera's. "What in the world are you doing to that poor woman?" shouted Abuelita, rushing to her mother. "It's okay, Mamá."

Rosa felt her father's firm hand on her shoulder. "What has gotten into you, Rosa Rivera?" he asked harshly, but immediately softened when Rosa launched herself into his arms. He tensed for a moment, but held her close to him. It was as if she would disappear if he let her go. "I thought I lost you, mija."

"I-I'm sorry, Papá," she sobbed into his chest. "I'm so sorry..."

Her mother smoothed her hair. "We're here, mija," she soothed. "You're safe now. We all are."

Rosa's thoughts immediately traveled back to Imelda fading away into nothing, just as Gustavo had. "N-Not all of us," she muttered into her father's shirt.

"Rosa!" seethed Abuelita suddenly, making her jump. "You apologize to your great grandmother at once, young lady!"

Rosa released her father and wiped a stray tear from her eye before making her way towards Mamá Coco. "Mamá Coco, I..." She suddenly caught sight of Imelda's violin on the floor and an idea formed in her head.

Of course! Why hadn't she thought of that before? Maybe it wouldn't work, but she might as well give it a try.

"Well?" snapped Abuelita impatiently. "Apologize!"

Rosa took the violin in her hands. "Mamá Coco, your mamá wanted you to know that she loved you," she spoke quietly, remembering Imelda's last words to her. "A-And she would have wanted you to have this to."

Abuelita looked ready to snatch the violin from her, but her father, surprisingly, placed a hand on her shoulder. "Mamá, wait," he uttered softly, eyes trained on his daughter.

Rosa began to bow softly before she started to sing, her voice trembling through her tears.

Remember me,  
Though I have to say goodbye  
Remember me,  
Don't let it make you cry

Mamá Coco's fingers started to twitch, something that caught Tía Luisa's attention. "Look!" she exclaimed to the family, pointing.

For even if I'm far away,  
I hold you in my heart  
I sing a secret song to you,  
Each night we are apart

Mamá Coco's eyes began to open slowly as she finally turned her head to face her great granddaughter. Slowly but surely, she began to sing along, the rest of the Rivera's watching in a mix of shock and amazement.

Remember me,  
Though are time together's thin  
Remember me,  
Each time you hear I violin

Rosa, who saw what was happening, struggled to contain her elation. Was it working? Was she remembering Imelda? She beamed at her great grandmother through her tears, overwhelmed with feelings of joy and achievement. Maybe, just maybe, she had been able to save Imelda's life- er, death.

Know that I'm with you,  
The only way that I can be  
Until your in my arms again,  
Remember me

Mamá Coco was smiling as they finished the song before she caught sight of her tearful- there wasn't a dry eye among the Rivera family at that moment- daughter. "Elena?" she asked softly. "What's wrong, mija?"

Abuelita sniffed. "N-Nothing, Mamá," she answered, holding back a sob. After all, it had been just yesterday that her mother couldn't even remember her name. "Nothing at all."

Mamá Coco seemed to accept this as she reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a book. "My Mamá used to sing me that song," she recalled.

Rosa was smiling so hard that her cheeks hurt. "She loved you, Mamá Coco," she promised. "More than anything. She never wanted to leave you, she… she..." The girl found it hard to continued through her tears.

Mamá Coco smiled at her, gently cupping her cheek. "I kept her letters," she revealed. "And the poems she wrote me. And..." She took a tiny piece of paper from the book before handing it to Rosa.

Rosa gasped. "H-Her photo!" she realized. The paper was, in fact, the missing piece of Imelda's face from Papá Héctor's ofrenda photo.

Mamá Coco nodded before turning to the rest of the family. "Mamá was a musician," she continued. "When I was a little girl, she and Papá would sing such beautiful songs." And so the family listened as the eldest of them recounted the events of her early childhood and allowed the memory of Imelda Rivera to live on.

OoOoOo

Later in the solace of her room, Rosa took in her appearance. Her hair was a mess, her clothes were torn, and she even had a few light scratches and smudges of dirt on her face. She ran her hands over her bare arms and shivered, guilt bubbling in her stomach. She had lost Miguel's hoodie in the Land of the Dead after De Paula had ripped it off her.

Suddenly, there was a knock at her door. "Mija? Can I come in?"

"Of course, Papá," Rosa called back. She was so extremely exhausted, but she knew that her family needed reassurance. And she had fractured relationships to mend with them all.

Her father entered her room and honestly looked the worst Rosa had ever seen him. His own clothes were wrinkled and there were large, dark circles under his eyes. "I'm glad you're okay, Rosie," he said softly, tentatively sitting down on her bed.

Rosa gave him a crooked smile. "That make two of us," she quipped.

Papá opened his arms to her and she immediately fell into them. For all their differences, they still loved each other mote than life itself. "Rosa, where were you last night?" he asked gently. "We searched the entire city for hours and there was no sign of you."

Rosa sighed, pulling away gently. "If I told you what happened, you wouldn't believe me," she stated, flopping onto her bed and covering her face with her pillow.

Her father lifted the pillow off her face. "Maybe not," he admitted. He was, after all, a skeptical man by nature. "but it can't hurt to talk about it, right?"

Rosa thought about this for a moment. "I think... I'd rather tell you all tomorrow," she decided, then looked at her father warily. He was a close-minded person, always insisting that his way was the only way. What if he made her explain everything now, when she was so exhausted? "If... If that's okay."

To her surprise, Papá nodded. "Of course, mija," he answered. "Just get some rest. You look like you had a tough night."

She nodded. "Okay, Papá," she agreed.

"Rosa, you need a shower first," decided a voice in the doorway. There stood her mother, arms crossed as she leaned against the door frame. "You can't get into bed like that."

Rosa wanted to protest that she was much too tired to take shower, but knew her mother was right. After everything she had gone through last night, all the places she had been in, she was in dire need of a cleaning. "Okay," she muttered, collecting her towel and wash cloth. She stumbled a bit as she walked, causing her mother to look at her in concern.

"Are you alright, mija?" she asked.

Rosa yawned. "I'm fine," she mumbled. "Just tired."

Mamá gently took her shoulders. "Come, bebita," she coaxed gently. "How about I wash you up in the tub, hmm? How does that sound?"

Normally, Rosa- being the very mature teenager she was- would refuse. She hated being babied and treated like a kid. However, she just didn't care tonight. So, she gave her mother a nod. Mamá smiled and guided her to the bathroom.

OoOoOo

When they were finished, Mamá was brushing out her wet hair. "Dios, mija," she complained, struggling to untangle a stubborn knot. Rosa didn't even wince, just allowed her mother to try to ease the brush thought her dark hair. "Your hair never gets this tangled, not in just a few hours. What in the world were you doing last night?"

She shrugged. "Things," she answered cryptically.

"What kind of 'things?'"

Rosa sighed. "Like I told Papá," she said patiently. "If I told you the truth, you wouldn't believe me."

Mamá said nothing at this, just continued to bush her hair. Even though her daughter wasn't facing her, she could still see the girl's expression in the mirror. Her eyes were hollow, something that only happened to people who had gone through a traumatic event. What had happened to her baby last night?

"Papá said I could tell you all tomorrow," Rosa continued. "It's a long story."

Mamá nodded understandingly. "We'll have time." She didn't care if they had to close the shoe store all day tomorrow, she would find out just what had happened to her daughter.

OoOoOo

Rosa sat at the table for breakfast the next morning, staring nervously down at her plate. She really didn't want to eat, not when the events of the previous two days were still fresh in her mind. She had clocked out at the early time of ten thirty in the morning and had almost woken up late. "Mija, you should eat something," suggested Abuelita next to her. She reached into her bread basket. "Here, have some more pan dulce-"

She shook her head. "No gracias," she muttered. Instead of trying to force the food down her throat like usual, Abuelita simply nodded and moved away.

Rosa could feel the entire family's eyes on her. She could tell they were curious, that they wanted to ask her what had happened, where she had been. She wanted to answer them, but she knew that no one would believe her.

"Rosa," said Tía Gloria gently, acknowledging the elephant in the room. "can you tell us where you were last night?"

Rosa raised her head to look at her. "You won't believe me," she insisted. As much as she loved her favorite aunt, she knew the Rivera's. She knew how close minded they all were.

Tía Gloria simply raised an eyebrow. "Try me."

Rosa thought back to that night. The night she had spent in the Land of the Dead. It had, without a doubt, been the most exciting, the most fun, the most thrilling night of her life. However, it had also been the scariest.

Though, she knew that her family were, for lack of a better word, pushy. They wouldn't take her silence about the situation well.

So, with doubt clouding her mind, Rosa began to tell the story.

She didn't watch her family's reaction, not sure she would be able to handle it enough to get through the whole tale. She kept her eyes on the wall behind them as she spoke. She recounted how she stole De Paula's guitar, how she was transported to the Land of the Dead, and how she met the deceased Rivera's. She recalled how she refused to take Papá Héctor's blessing, how she had run off to get to De Paula, and how she had met Imelda. She told them everything.

When she finished, Rosa's eyes finally traveled to her family's faces.

Her mother and aunts looked absolutely horrified, staring at her with wide, terrified eyes. Her father and brother looked absolutely furious. Her uncle and cousin's expressions remained unreadable. Her great grandmother's newly opened eyes just gazed at her sadly. And her grandmother's face was ridden with unbridled guilt.

For the first time, the Rivera's were silent.

Rosa bit her lip. "Can... Can one of you say something?" she asked quietly. They looked like they wanted to speak, but no sound came out. She felt a tug on her shirt and glanced down.

Her younger twin brothers, Manny and Benny, were looking up at her, terror in their big eyes. "Rosie!" they sobbed, each one clutching her legs.

She looked at the, confused. "What's wrong, guys?" she asked. They were only four, so she didn't know how much of her story they had understood. Still, with the looks they were giving, they must have picked up on some things.

Manny- or Benny, her mind was too all over the place to tell them apart- climbed onto her lap and hugged her close. "Hurt!" he cried, burying his face into her chest.

Rosa pursed her lips in thought. "Hurt? What do you mean- oh." She glanced at the bruise on her arm where De Paula had grabbed her. "It's okay, guys," she assured them. And it was, she hadn't even noticed it. It must have been one of those things that looked worse than they were. "It's just a little bruise."

Benny- she assumed- couldn't get onto her lap too, so he continued to grip her legs. "No!" he squealed in agony. "No hurt!"

She sighed and kissed Manny on the head before setting him down next to his twin. "Guys, I'm fine," she swore. "I promise." Their lips trembled before they finally nodded.

"I..." spoke Tío Enrique, the first one to finally say something. But his voice was weak, so he cleared his throat. "I think we should close the shop for today. Figure some things out."

Her father, still looking as angry as ever, nodded. "That's probably best," he agreed. "Is that alright with you, Mamá?"

Abuelita said nothing for a while and Rosa supposed she couldn't blame her. The Rivera's had lived by one rule for their whole lives; no music. Music had been the thing that had torn their family apart and Abuelita had lived and breathed that rule. Now that the truth had finally come out (assuming that she was to be believed), Abuelita must have been having a hard time accepting it.

"Yes," she finally said. "Yes, that is probably best."

Tía Luisa nudged her son. "Miguel, go take care of Rosa's bruise," she ordered gently, handing him some ice.

Miguel immediately took it and nodded. "Come on, Rosa," he urged, taking her by her uninjured wrist. He led her to the bathroom where the Rivera's kept the first aid kit. He wrapped the ice in a towel before pressing to her wrist. She winced. "Sorry, but this is the only way it'll heal."

"It's okay," muttered Rosa distractedly. She found herself thinking of Imelda. Had she gotten Mamá Coco to remember her in time? Or had her great great grandmother been condemned to the final death? Was she too late? Had she failed? What if-

"It's all true, isn't it?" asked Miguel softly.

She looked at him. "What?"

"Everything about the Land of the Dead," he clarified. "It all happened."

Rosa gave him a small smile and nodded. "Sí," she answered. She took in her cousin's appearance and chuckled.

He tilted his head in confusion. "What?"

She grinned. "You look like Papá Héctor," she told him. She had never noticed it before, but Miguel was almost the spitting image. With his large ears and big, round eyes, there was no doubt they were related. The main differences between them were Miguel's round face and nose.

Directly taken from Imelda.

Miguel smirked at her. "¿Muy guapo, eh?" he teased.

Rosa shoved him. "Idiota," she commented, mischief shining behind her magenta glasses.

Miguel sighed in relief, happy to see his cousin so relaxed and open. She had been jumpy and conservative since she had shown up yesterday morning. It was good to know that he still had his best friend.

But there was one thing that was still bothering him.

"So, does this mean that the ban's lifted?" he asked.

Rosa's smile faded. "I don't know," she admitted. "That's up to Abuelita, I guess."

"I don't think they'd try to stop you," Miguel decided. "Not after that."

She scoffed. "If they believe me," she added. "I don't know about you, but my father didn't look convinced."

"My parents do," he told her. "I can tell. And I think Tía Gloria does too. Mamá Coco definitely believes you."

Rosa huffed. "How is it that my own parents are the only skeptical ones?" she complained.

Miguel shrugged. "No lo sé," he answered. He held out his arms. "Ven aca."

She immediately fell into them, grateful to be with her cousin again. "Your street dog was a big help," she told him, burying her face into the crook of his neck. "Without him, I would probably be dead."

He stiffened at that, holding onto her a tight as he could. The thought of her being gone, being ripped from his life so suddenly was almost too much to bare. "H-He's a good dog."

Rosa nodded. "He is," she agreed. "Te amo, Miguel."

"Te amo, también." said Miguel.

They stayed like that for a while, in complete silence. However, Rosa's mind was racing. Did her family believe her? And if they did, would the ban be lifted of music? Did she manage to save Imelda in time? If so, were she and Papá Héctor reconciling their relationship?

There were too many thought and not enough time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I made Student Council President on Thursday. Don't know how I feel about that... Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!


	10. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is! The highly-anticipated (not really) epilogue. Please enjoy!

Rosa felt very accomplished.

It had taken months upon months, but she had finally managed to convince almost everyone in Santa Cecilia that Imelda was the true artist behind De Paula's success. At first, no one believed her. Heck, she had almost gotten arrested for stealing the violin! But, the evidence that Mamá Coco's journal was substantial.

In the end, it had been proven that Imelda wrote all of De Paula's songs and now it was all anyone could talk about. She hadn't told anyone outside of her family about going to the Land of the Dead, not even her friends at school. It was a secret she would keep close to her heart.

Right now, Rosa was with her younger brothers in the ofrenda room. "That's your Papá Julio," she told them, pointing to the man's picture. "He's Abuelita's papá. And that's your Tía Victoria. She's Abuelita's sister." She noticed her brothers looking particularly bored. "Hey, you two, these aren't just pictures. They're our family."

"And they're counting on us to remember them," added Miguel from next to her, the newest addition to the Rivera family on his hip.

Socorro "Coco" Rivera had been born eight months prior. She was Miguel's younger sister who he loved fiercely. Rosa adored her as well and the three of them would often take trips to Mariachi Plaza.

Abuelita walked up beside Rosa, caressing her cheek. She sighed, placing Mamá Coco's photo on the ofrenda. Rosa hugged her grandmother, willing herself not to cry.

Mamá Coco had died a few months ago, just before Socorro had been born. Every night until then, Rosa had sang Remember Me for her great grandmother before she went off to bed. The old woman had died peacefully in her sleep, the last thing she had heard was her great granddaughter playing her childhood lullaby.

"She's with her parents now, Abuelita," Rosa promised. "She's happy."

Abuelita practically clung to her. "I know, mija," she said. "I know."

OoOoOo

Meanwhile, in the Land of the Dead, Imelda was preparing to go through the scanner once more. She felt a pit on anxiety in her metaphorical stomach, remembering the countless times she had tried this. How many times had she been rejected? How many times was she condemned to never seeing or even knowing her descendants?

Even though her beloved daughter had come to them and informed them- after a tearful and heartfelt reunion- that Rosa had, in fact, put Imelda's photo on the Rivera ofrenda, she couldn't help but be skeptical. She couldn't help the feeling that something could go wrong.

"Next!" called the clerk.

Say that I'm crazy,  
Or call me a fool

Imelda took a deep breath, walking forward. She didn't smile (she didn't want to get her hopes up) and looked into the camera. She was thoroughly surprised, however, when the machine chimed positive.

The clerk looked positively elated for her. "Enjoy your visit, Imelda!"

Imelda couldn't help it, she grinned bigger than she ever had in her life (and in her death). "Gracias, Señora." For the first time, she stepped through the gates and towards the bridge.

The first one to greet her was Héctor. He beamed at her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pecking her on her lips. It had taken months, but they were finally on their way to rekindling the love they had once shared. They weren't there yet- probably wouldn't be for a few more years- but they were at a good place at the moment.

But last night it seemed,  
That I dreamed about you

"iMamá!"

"Coco!" exclaimed Imelda in joy, hugging her daughter close. The moment they had met again had been the happiest of her life. She had waited ninety six long years to be reunited with her only child and that day had finally come.

"Te amo," she told her daughter, peppering her face with kisses. "¡Te amo mucho!"

Coco grinned. "I love you too, Mamá." She linked arms with her mother, who then linked arms with her father. "Venga, everyone else is probably on the bridge already."

When I opened my mouth,  
What came out was a song

The family trekked towards the bridge where the other Rivera's were, in fact, waiting for them. Imelda looked down at her (newly acquired) shoes as they bridge glowed gold under her. It was really working. She was really going to see the Land of the Living for the first time in almost a century.

And you knew every word,  
And we all sang along

Coco joined hands with Rosita while Héctor took Victoria's hand and the family walked across the bridge, towards the Land of the Living. No one said it, but they were all anxious to see one family member in particular.

To a melody played,   
On the strings of our souls  
And a rhythm that rattled us,  
Down to the bone

Our love for each other,  
Will live on forever  
In every beat of my proud corazón

OoOoOo

Back in the Land of the Living, Día De Los Muertos had begun. The Rivera's, as always, were celebrating with ferocity. There were mountains of food set out, the ofrenda was packed with offerings, and everyone was having a good time. Just the same as the years previous.

The only difference this year was that the household was bustling with music. In the center was Rosa, dressed in a red mariachi dress, her violin tucked under her chest. She was playing and singing her heart out, her family surrounding her. She was joined by Miguel and Abel, each playing the guitar and accordion respectively.

Ay mi familia,  
Oiga me gente  
Canten al coro,  
Let it be known

Unknown to the living Rivera's, their deceased family members were watching on proudly. Especially Imelda and Héctor, who were engaged in their own dance. Imelda, who was practically beaming at her great-great granddaughter, interrupted the dance to grab her violin's spirit and play along with the girl.

Our love for each other,  
Will live on forever  
In every beat of my proud corazón

As for Rosa, she had never been happier.

This was all she had ever dreamed of. She had always known that music would bring her family closer together. She was so unbelievably elated that she had the opportunity to share her love of music with them.

Ay mi familiar,  
Oiga me gente  
Canten al coro,  
Let it be known

The Rivera's- deceased and living- joined a circle at the center of the backyard, everyone surrounding Rosa as she played. Abel and Miguel accompanied her music well, she noticed. She made a mental not to perform with them more.

Our love for each other,,  
Will live on forever  
In every beat of my proud corazón

As Rosa finished, she was hoisted up by her father and uncle. Behind them, fireworks exploded in the night sky.

OoOoOo

Later, Rosa found herself in the ofrenda room. She admired each and every one of the pictured on it, having gained a new appreciation of them. Behind her, Imelda, Coco, and Héctor watched, pride shining in their eyes. They all loved her undoubtedly, even more so than usual after what had transpired the year before.

"I… I don't know if you guys are here or not," Rosa suddenly spoke, facing away from them. "Heck, I don't even know if I saved Imelda in time or not. But I'm holding out hope." She had been so disappointed that she hadn't been able to see any skeletons when the sun had set. She had hoped that for all her time in the Land of the Dead, there would have been some side effect. Maybe a cool power acquired from it.

But nothing. She didn't even know if her deceased family was there.

Imelda sighed in disappointment. "I thought that all her time being with us would have enabled her to see us," she confessed to her daughter and husband.

"It's… probably for the best," decided Héctor. "We don't want any… side effects. Unwanted or otherwise." Coco nodded in agreement.

Rosa chuckled, drawing their attention once more. "You know, I could probably snag something off the ofrenda," she pointed out. "That might be able to send me back."

Imelda glared daggers at her. "Rosa Marigold Rivera, you will do nothing of the kind!" she snapped, knowing full and well that her great-great granddaughter couldn't hear her.

"But I don't think you guys would be very happy with me if I did," Rosa added, as if able to feel her great-great grandmother's ire. "So, I won't." Her eyes glinted mischievously behind her magenta glasses. "For now, at least. I can't help it that I miss you."

Coco smiled sadly at her. "Oh, mija, we miss you too." She couldn't help but feel that the girl's love of music was due to her. When Rosa and Miguel were babies, she used to sing them Remember Me to keep them from fussing. She hadn't thought they were paying attention, just lulled to sleep by the soothing sound. Now that her memories were back, Coco realized that her great grandchildren were, in fact, watching her like hawks.

And she wouldn't have it any other way.

Rosa kissed the tips of her finger before pressing it to each family member's photo. "I love you guys," she told them, hoping with all her heart that they could hear her. "And I'll never let any of you be forgotten." She took out her phone. "See? I even took pictured of you photos so that way, if they get damaged, we can print new ones."

Héctor grinned at her. "That's my chamaca," he said fondly. "Such a thinker."

Imelda titled her head. "What is that thing?" she asked, gesturing to the phone.

"It's called a cellphone, Mamá," Coco informed her mother. "It's like a telephone, only it doesn't need a wire to call. It's kind of like a smaller version of computers."

Imelda made a face. "So, it's a mini devil-box?" she asked in horror. Coco giggled and Héctor chortled. It had been established that the musician didn't do well with modern technology.

"Something like that, mi amor," answered Héctor.

"Sometimes, I think that everything was just a dream," Rosa suddenly confessed, drawing their attention back to her. "That I somehow hit my head in De Paula's tomb and everything that happened was just in my head." She sighed. "But then I remember that I didn't come back with Miguel's hoodie. And the photo Imelda gave me as the same one that Mamá Coco had in her journal. So, I'm still sure it happened."

Imelda nodded. "Good, chiquita," she praised. "Keep making those connections." She grimaced. "Pleas don't forget us."

Héctor put his hands on her shoulders. "She won't," he assured her. "You know Rosa, she's stubborn."

Rosa glanced out the window. "The sun's going to be coming up soon," she noticed. "You guys might want to get going soon, if you're still here, that." She sighed in frustration. "Dios, I hate this." Imelda, Héctor, and Coco all gathered the girl into a group hug. Even though she couldn't see them, they hoped that she could feel the love they all had for her.

Héctor was the first to pull away. "She's right," he agreed reluctantly. "We only have about thirty minutes to get back across the bridge."

"You two go ahead," insisted Imelda. "I... just want a few more minutes with her." They nodded and left her alone with her great-great granddaughter, who she was now directly in front of her. "Thank you so much, mija. I am honored to have you as a great-great granddaughter." She kissed her on the crown of her head. "I love you."

Once Imelda left and the sun was up, Rosa sighed and smiled wistfully. "Until next year, mi familia."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know this chapter was shot, but I didn't want to stretch it out more than I already was. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!


	11. Author's Note

Hey, everyone. I just want to make something perfectly clear.

I DID NOT STEAL ANY IDEAS OR ELEMENTS FOR THIS STORY!

Everything I write is completely all my own. Always. I never copy and if I ever do draw inspiration (which is unavoidable as a writer), I make it painfully vague because I do not plagiarize.

The writer in question suggested that I "copied" lines and then "reworded" them. This is absolutely NOT the case. I have written over twenty stories over the course of my year on this site, all my own original work. I've been writing fanfiction itself even longer. Does anyone honestly believe that I would copy the words of another author?

I do admit, I did read said author's story before I published this one. But at the time, this story was already formulated in my head and being written. By the time that it was published, I had already forgotten all about the story and was focusing on this one. I did not, under any circumstances, copy anyone else's work.

I just wanted to get this out there in case any of you legitimately thought I did copy this person's work. Please understand that this is something I would never, ever do.

Love you all,  
~Rose

**Author's Note:**

> Since I am in no way Hispanic, I had to use a translator for most of the Spanish here. Any Spanish-speakers out there, feel free to correct me. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!


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